


Desperately Seeking Seekers

by delightful_fear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-War, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-11-13 01:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18022538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightful_fear/pseuds/delightful_fear
Summary: Harry is back for an eighth year at Hogwarts, hoping for a bit of normalcy.  Studying for NEWTs, playing lots of Quidditch, and reconnecting with old friends... time to figure out what he will do in the future.Perhaps it was too much to hope that the gossip around him would die down... mostly about his love life...





	1. Back at Hogwarts

“Ready to lose, Potter?” 

Harry felt a surge of pure joy at the words, and glanced over at the man riding a broomstick near him. He never thought he’d play Quidditch again, and yet here he was, in a game with Draco as the other Seeker, their old rivalry still as strong as ever. 

But there were differences from the last time he’d been on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The stands were only half completed, and yet full of students cheering and supporting their houses. All the players, including Draco and himself, were a lot older, and still showing effects from the all too recent battle. And many of the players were playing for different houses. 

It was all part of Headmistress McGonagall’s plan to get Hogwarts and its students back into good shape, in every way. Starting in the summer, many students and alumni had volunteered to help with the cleanup and repair of the ancient buildings. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been among them, coming in August after all the trials were done. 

By the time the school term started, the school was looking good in the main common areas. Professor McGonagall had welcomed all the students back, and promised many changes. 

Eighth year students were given their own tower and common room to stay in together, and their own Quidditch league. Since there were so few Slytherins available, McGonagall had mandated that the three teams must contain players from all the houses. So, the Gryffindor team had Ginny, Ron and Dean, but also Blaise Zambini as a Chaser, and Susan Bones and Terry Boot as Beaters. 

Draco was wearing the black and yellow uniform of the Hufflepuffs, and so were Seamus Finnegan and Mandy Brocklehurst. He glared at Harry and then looped around the field, a fast streak of yellow that reminded him of a wasp. 

Jarring himself out of his musings, Harry circled the field in the opposite direction, scanning for that tiny glint of gold. There was something so freeing about letting the world fall away and only focusing on what was happening on the pitch. Feeling the wind rushing through his hair, enjoying the speed of his broom and the lush greenery of the Scottish Highlands. They were all sense memories of the best times of his school years, and Harry had happily dived right back into the busy schedule of practices and games. 

Many of the returning eighth years were new to playing at this level, with the more experienced players often in the Chaser positions. It meant both teams were scoring often, and Harry tried to pay attention to the score as he flew. It wouldn’t help to catch the snitch if Hufflepuff had enough points to still win. 

Harry saw the snitch and raced towards it, with Draco only a second behind him. His heart was pounding and he could barely catch his breath as they swerved to follow the speedy ball, zipping every direction to shake them off its tail. He nudged against Draco, their padded uniforms protecting them from the rough contact of the game. But when the snitch took a hard left, Draco shoved hard against Harry before following it, making him almost fall off his broom. 

It took a second or two to regain his balance, but by then Draco was far away, and Harry could swear he heard him chuckling as he raced to catch up. Luckily the snitch swooped down low, and Harry was able to drop into a steep dive to intersect it. He had always been the better, faster flyer, and he was soon reaching for the ball.

Draco almost crashed into Harry as he pulled out of his own dive, pushing against his left side as they raced close to the ground, both reaching out for the snitch. It moved upwards and Harry followed faster, finally grabbing the ball. 

Unfortunately, they hadn’t been watching their surroundings close enough, the wall of the spectator stands suddenly far too near for the speed they were going. They both veered the same direction, hitting each other and unbalancing, crashing down on to the grass six feet below. 

Groaning, Harry untangled his sore limbs from Draco, relieved he was a bit banged up but no bones seemed broken. 

Draco rolled over, his face and hair streaked with mud and his eyes furious. “You crashed us on purpose!” He lurched to his feet, showing he wasn’t badly injured either, and grabbed his broom. 

Ignoring him, Harry staggered to his feet and slowly opened his hand. Through everything, he had held tight to the struggling ball, and he held it high now, elation running through him. 

The crowd was cheering madly, and his team landed, running over to hug him and share in their victory. Even Susan, Terry and Blaise were smiling widely. 

Draco shook his head at Blaise, glaring at him and mumbling “Blood Traitor,” under his breath as he stalked off the field. It reminded Harry a little of Kreacher’s old resentful mutterings. 

“That was fantastic!” Ron yelled over the roar of the crowd, looking around the packed stands with a glow of happy satisfaction. 

Slinging his arm over his best friend’s shoulders, they walked off the pitch together, back to the boys' changing rooms. 

...

It was strange celebrating in the Eighth Year common room afterwards, since people from all three teams were there. Harry was rehashing the game with the rest of his team, with returning Gryffindors like Hermione and Parvati who had watched from the stands. Everyone was in high spirits from winning the first game of the season, drinking butterbeer and some smuggled-in fire whiskey. 

Seamus gave Harry a friendly smile from across the room, but continued to sit with the Hufflepuff team. Even though they had lost, they seemed in good spirits. The scores had been pretty close and Draco had come very close to grabbing the snitch. They had a good chance at winning future games. 

Draco wasn’t sitting with them, though. He was with his old friends Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle, talking quietly together. The only other returning Eighth Year Slytherin was Millicent Bestrode, and she had already gone up to the dorm rooms. She was still a bit irked Goyle had been chosen for the Ravenclaw Beater over her. 

Neville Longbottom wasn’t sitting in Harry’s group either, but with his Ravenclaw team. Luna Lovegood was practically in his lap, enthusiastically sharing strategies with Michael Corner for when they took on Hufflepuff in the next match. 

Out of all the Eighth Years, Harry thought Neville had changed the most. He was one of the tallest boys now, and his face had slimmed down. But the biggest change was his demeanor. He looked comfortable in his own skin, sitting with his shoulders back and confidently meeting anyone's gaze. 

In the aftermath of the war, he had gotten almost as much attention as Harry, who was more than happy to share the spotlight. It was refreshing seeing the shy boy in the role of a hero, his grandmother watching proudly when people recognized him. 

Luna had reached over and taken his hand, making Neville lose his train of thought to look down at their linked hands in wonder. They shared a warm gaze before going back to their group’s discussion. 

Harry’s eyes fell next to Hermione and Ron, holding hands like Luna and Neville, and looking quite comfortable together. It had been an adjustment being around them, now very much a couple. 

“I can’t get over what a difference the broomsticks make,” Ginny commented. 

Blaise gave her a slow smile. “You like the Firebolts?”

She grinned back. “Who wouldn’t? I had a second hand Cleansweep before.”

The wizarding community had been horrified that the final battle against Voldemort had been at Hogwarts, and that so many students had been in danger. As a result, there had been huge campaigns to fix the school and support the returning students to get over this. One of the most popular with the students was that professional Quidditch teams had donated many old Firebolt brooms to the school. Most of the players were borrowing one instead of using their own older models. 

As the Gryffindor team babbled on about how much they loved the brooms, Harry looked between Ginny and Blaise speculatively, wondering if there could be a spark of interest between the Chasers since they had been training so closely together this last month. 

The feeling between Harry and Ginny had faded back to just being friends now. Events of the last year had made them grow apart, and it had been a mutual decision to officially break up early in the summer. They had talked a lot about the past, and she had been active resisting against the tyranny of the Carrows with the other remaining DA members last year.

He excused himself not much later, feeling a little sore and tired from the game. After taking a long hot shower, he crawled into bed and pulled the curtains closed around it. It was a bit of an adjustment sleeping in a large room with all the other Eighth Year boys, another way McGonagall was encouraging inter-house unity. 

...

-A/N: Just some fluffy fun, exploring ideas around what eighth year at Hogwarts would be like. I have drafted all the chapters, so I'll be posting regularly. The fic is around 25K words long and likely 9 chapters.  
-Thanks for giving this a try. I'm a little intimidated writing a story that takes place in Hogwarts, as there are so many characters. Hope I don't screw anything up too much (if I do, gentle correction is appreciated).  
-I’ll add character tags as I go along. 

-This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
Short comments  
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-Here’s a interactive tool created by longlivefeedback to help construct comments: [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)


	2. Halloween

Harry grinned as he gazed at his image in the mirror. Hermione had helped him curl his hair and dust it with white powder, and also used it to lighten his skin. He had used a spell to grow a mustache and goatee, using special wax to shape it just right. Deep red make-up had been painted almost all the way around his neck. The rented pale grey doublet and breeches finished off his costume. 

“You look just like Nearly Headless-Nick,” Hermione said with satisfaction. She had even ordered him disposable muggle contact lenses to wear for the night instead of his glasses. He hardly even recognized himself. 

“Too bad there’s no way to really look partially decapitated,” Ron added. He was dressed head to toe in a Chudley Cannons uniform, the dark brown Keeper shields covering up some of the bright orange fabric. It wasn’t that different that his normal Gryffindor uniform, except for the jersey. 

“As long as I can have a break from being Harry Potter for a night, that’s enough for me.” Harry chuckled back, glancing down at a dog-eared paper on the table.

**_DESPERATELY SEEKING SEEKERS_ **

**_Now that Lord Voldemort has been defeated, will dishy Harry Potter be turning his attention back to love?_ **

**_Looking at his past romantic interests, we have spotted an interesting similarity. Quidditch beauties Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley were both playing as Seekers when they caught Harry’s eye. Is that his type?_ **

**_Sources say that things have fizzled with GW (perhaps because she’s a Chaser now?)._ **

**_But with seven Quidditch teams at Hogwarts this year, Harry has a many options. Ravenclaw Su Li, or the girls from the junior teams, Gryffindor Romilda Vane or even Ravenclaw Gabrielle Delacour, recently transferred from Beauxbatons school in France. All Seekers, and all single..._ **

**_The Oracle will be keeping a close eye on what develops!_ **

**_-Nevermind your Ps and Qs, The All-Knowing, All-Seeing Oracle is your first source of juicy Hogwarts gossip! -_ **

As things had settled into normal routines at Hogwarts, somebody had decided to stir things up with a daily gossip newsletter, called The Oracle. Anonymously, of course. It was mostly false news and outlandish rumors, but featured Harry’s name far too often. 

“That new story will die down soon. Just ignore it.” Running a brush through her straight blond hair, Hermione looked almost as unrecognizable as Harry did. She had transfigured her curly, dark hair for the night, and was wearing a rented mermaid costume. It consisted of a narrow skirt made out of shiny teal fabric, that split near her ankles and swooped out to a large fish tail suspended at her side by a string from her wrist. She wore bold make-up and a fancy headpiece made out of seashells.

Ron was looking at her disapprovingly though. “Are you really going to wear that?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Harry could only smirk to himself at their bickering. It was a little refreshing hearing it, like all the years they’d been at school together. Much more familiar than seeing them cuddling and stealing kisses. 

“You are showing a lot of skin,” Ron waved a hand over her upper body.

The top part of the costume was a small corset in fabric that matched the skirt, and it left her stomach, shoulders and arms bare. Her small breasts were completely covered, so Harry didn’t think it was showing more than any typical bathing suit would, but he wisely kept out of their argument. 

They kept it up all the way down the stairs to the Great Hall, where they were all left speechless by the decorations. Carved pumpkins glowing with candles inside floated above their heads, giving off a flickering golden glow. Live bats swooped over the tables and Hogwarts ghosts were sitting at a special table of honor at the far end of the hall. 

Instead of a sit down feast like they had in the past, McGonagall had changed it to a costume party with an elaborate buffet of food and drinks. Harry, Ron and Hermione went to get food immediately, feeling hungry.

Most people recognized Ron right away, but did second glances at Hermione and Harry. They had fun seeing all the other student’s costumes as well.

“You look gorgeous, Hermione,” Pavarti sighed, giving her a look that reminded Harry of the Yule Ball back in fourth year. She stepped nearer, exclaiming over the blond hair and make-up. Hermione was just as admiring of her costume as a Hindu goddess, with a magenta sari and elaborate jewelry. 

Ron stood awkwardly off to the side as the girls talked, and Harry shot him a laughing glance. “Well, I’m going to get more food. Catch up with you later.”

It was kind of nice to work his way through the crowd on his own, nibbling on his dinner. As the ball had come closer, Harry had considered asking a date, but he was glad that he hadn’t. There was no one he had romantic feelings for now. 

It was also amusing having people admire his costume, recognizing it as Nearly-Headless Nick, but not recognizing it was Harry. It was almost like being in a muggle area. Funny how covering up his scar and not wearing glasses made such a difference. 

Eventually, a band was up on the stage, belting out music that made most of the students grab a partner and head to the dance floor. Harry hung back, watching Ron and Hermione dancing. Luna was with Neville, and Ginny was dancing with Dean. 

The lights were low in the great hall, and Harry enjoyed looking around the room. This was his last year here, and he was determined to enjoy every minute of it. Try to have as normal a year as any student, not trying to solve big mysteries just to stay alive. Studying hard for all his NEWT exams, and figuring out what he wanted for the future. Having time to relax and have fun like tonight. 

There was another student standing on their own not far from Harry, and he found his eyes being drawn to him again and again. He was slim and a bit taller than Harry, dressed like a vampire. His dress robes were elegant, but of an older style. His skin was powdered like Harry’s to be pale, and dark makeup surrounded his eyes. His hair was jet black, styled into a tall pompadour.

“Great costume! Have you shown it to Nick yet?” Terry stopped by to say, accompanied by Justin and Ernie. 

Harry was pulled out of his perusal of the vampire, and smiled back at them. They were dressed like dementors, but it wasn’t at all scary since they didn’t have their hoods up. 

He let them pull him over to the ghost’s table, and Nick was quite impressed with Harry’s costume. The only critique was that he should wear a bigger ruff around his neck. 

During October, Professor McGonagall had brought in several paranormal experts. They had gone over the castle and the grounds, with the intention of assisting anyone who had died during the Battle of Hogwarts to go on to the ‘next place’ if they chose to. As one of the most haunted places in Britain, they had also encountered the older Hogwarts ghosts and offered the same service to them.

Harry’s costume was a tribute to the Gryffindor’s ghost, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. After much deliberation, he had chosen to move on. Many other ghosts had made this decision as well, including Moaning Myrtle and Professor Binns, and the ghosts had been given this special table of honour for a final feast. They were going to the other side at midnight.

When Ernie tugged him away, they ended up in a dark corner. Justin glanced around quickly and passed Harry a silver flask. “It’s fire whiskey.”

“We’ve been discretely sharing it with all the Eighth Years,” Terry confided, as Harry took a quick swig of the alcohol. 

By the time he parted ways with them, Harry was half-drunk. Grabbing Susan Bones’ hand, he tugged her towards the dance floor. “Come on,” he slurred with a grin.

He had always like her calm no-nonsense attitude during DA meetings, and had gotten to know her even better since she had joined the Gryffindor team. Terry had obviously been slipping her some whiskey as well, as she was a bit wobbly at times as they danced, and had to grab his shoulder to keep from falling. 

He stayed on the dance floor after that, dancing with Hannah, Padma, and Luna. Thirsty, he found Justin and had some more fire whiskey. 

It was hitting him hard, and he realized he’d probably had too much. Waving goodbye to slow dancing Ron and Hermione, Harry headed back to his dorm. 

After going up a couple flights of stairs, he took a wrong turn, and was a little too drunk to find his way back. Turning a corner, he saw a large window with a view down to the lake, and the boy dressed like a vampire sitting on the wide window sill, gazing downwards. 

Drawn closer like a magnet, Harry was soon at his side. He had found his glance going often back to this boy all night, sometimes talking with friends, but often on his own. His curiosity had increased as the night went on. Here was his last chance to identify him.

The moment the vampire looked up at Harry, he recognized the blue-grey eyes, despite the dark eye make-up, paler skin and dark hair. Draco Malfoy. 

Perhaps he had adopted some of the vampires’ ways, because Harry felt mesmerized by his gaze as Draco stood. “Potter,” he said, contempt in his tone, as always. 

It wasn’t that surprising that Draco had recognized him so easily. There was always an awareness between them, even across the great hall at meals. He often seemed to feel Draco’s eyes on him, and always felt the urge to look back. No wonder he had been so fascinated by the mysterious vampire at the dance. 

Draco must have had his share of fire whiskey as well, as he swayed on his feet a little. Harry instinctively reached out to brace him, a hand on his upper arm. Even through the layers of clothing, the contact seemed to send sparks through him, and he froze, meeting Draco’s eyes again. 

Seeming just as still, Draco glanced down at Harry’s hand on his arm, but didn’t shake it off. Instead, he seemed to sway closer still, and his other hand came up to clasp Harry’s shoulder. His mouth found Harry’s, and pressed in for a long, firm kiss.

Shock was the first response, and Harry’s head reeled as he tried to grips with the fact that Draco Malfoy was kissing him. But within seconds, he was leaning into it, his hand sliding up to cup the back of Draco’s neck. 

Draco let out a bit of a moan, kissing along Harry’s jaw to his ear. It felt fantastic, and he tilted his head to the side to give him better access as he pulled Draco against him. Wanting more. 

Compared to the sweet, gentle kisses he’d shared with Cho and Ginny, these were hot and passionate. Harry moved back to kiss Draco again, open mouthed, his tongue slipping inside. He felt a sharp jolt of pain, and pulled back, his hand going to his mouth. 

“You bit me,” Harry gasped, seeing the spot of blood on his fingers and tasting copper. 

Draco shook his head. “Sorry, just part of my costume,” he smirked a little, and Harry could see his incisors were a bit longer and sharper than normal ones. Vampire teeth. 

Pulling out his wand, Draco pointed it towards his mouth and muttered a quick spell. When he smiled at Harry again, his teeth were normal. “Perhaps I should have left them alone. Gryffindors like a bit of danger, don’t they?” 

With a small growl, Harry kissed him again, his hands going into his thick black hair. Draco kissed him back just as enthusiastically, his hands sliding down Harry’s back in a way that made him wish he wasn’t wearing the thick fabric of his costume. 

A noise nearby had them springing apart, a little breathless. Mrs. Norris, Finch’s annoying cat, had come around the corner and gave a loud meow at seeing students where they didn’t belong. 

“Shit,” Harry gasped, looking around. “We better run for it. Split up so we don’t get caught or identified.” Maybe the dark hallway and the costumes would help them get away with this.

Draco nodded, and was gone down the hallway in a flash. Harry headed down a different one; taking the stairs so fast he almost tripped. He felt very sober now, the adrenaline overriding the booze. 

He ended up going into a boy’s washroom a couple flights down, and took off the ruff and doublet. The breeches didn’t look that strange on their own, paired with his undershirt. He washed off the make-up, and rinsed the powder out of his hair, then used a drying spell. By the time he slipped out, he looked mostly normal, his costume bunched under one arm. He made it back to the dorm without attention. 

It was only when he was in bed that he realized he was still wearing the contacts. He slipped them out and put them on the bedside table, glad they were disposable. 

As he was about to drift off to sleep, he heard someone else closing the door softly. Peeking out the crack in his bed curtains, Harry saw Draco creeping over to his bed. He hung up his costume in the nearby wardrobe, stripping down to his underwear. 

All the Eighth Year boys just slept in their underwear, except Neville, who wore striped pajamas. Seeing Draco in the dim moonlight slipping into his bed reminded Harry what had just happened. 

Had he actually made out with Draco Malfoy? His rival, his school enemy? Was it just because they had been both been drinking? 

His tongue still felt a little sore, and when he reached up to probe at it, felt the mustache and goatee. Chuckling to himself, he grabbed his wand to get rid of them.

The ridiculousness of the whole situation hit him then. Their first kiss had been half-drunk, with Harry sporting fifteenth century facial hair, and Draco with vampire fangs.

And despite all that, it had been as hot as hell and he just wanted more.

...

-The Oracle’s slogan “Nevermind your Ps and Qs...” is a reference to the old saying “Mind your Ps and Qs” , that basically means to behave well and don’t give offence. The Oracle plans to behave quite badly and gives lots of offense, having much more fresh, juicy gossip about Hogwarts than the P (Prophet) or the Q (Quibbler). 

-Hermione’s mermaid costume might have been inspired by a muggle movie she saw. 1990’s Mermaids starring Cher, and Winona Ryder and Christini Ricci as her daughters. Clips of mermaid costume [here.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2EeB-xHTJVM) It’s nothing like the merpeople in the lake. 


	3. Viktor Krum

“Path the pumpkin juth,” Harry said, motioning towards the jug. He had woken up with a bit of a hangover and drinking more fluids seemed like a good idea.

Ron chuckled as he handed it over. “Why are you talking like that?”

Harry’s eyes flicked to where Draco was sitting with Blaise and Pansy, his hair white blond again, looking perfectly normal. He shrugged a shoulder. “Bit my tongue by accidenth.” Overnight, the little nick had swollen significantly.

“You know, there are extra healers volunteering at the hospital wing for the next few weeks. They are checking over any students who were in the battle, healing old injuries. You should go,” Hermione said absentmindedly as she flipped through her Daily Prophet. 

Ron nodded. “Yeah. They are treating my splinched shoulder, and say it will be back to normal after three more treatments.” Hermione had treated it as well as she could last year, but it was a little stiff at times. 

When he had a break later, Harry went to the hospital wing. Usually, there were two or three students in the beds. Magic, when done by students, led to frequent accidents, in addition to Quidditch injuries. Luckily, most things could be healed within a few days. 

This time, there were screens set up everywhere and healers in lime green robes rushing around. He could hear the murmur of voices coming from behind the screens. 

Madam Pomfrey gave him a warm smile. “Hello, Harry. What can we do for you?”

“Just a shore tongue,” Harry admitted, feeling embarrassed. 

She chuckled at his pronunciation and waved him over to a bed. After an examination, she pointed her wand at his open mouth and whispered a few words. The slight pain vanished and his tongue felt normal again. The good thing was she never asked too many questions about how you got yourself injured, just dealt with it and let you go. 

“Mr. Potter, before you go, I want you to see one of our specialists. They won’t be here long, and I think you might need their services more than most.” Her eyes were kind, and he found himself nodding. He trusted her medical care.

Fifteen minutes later, he was behind a screen with a older male healer who introduced himself as Elliott. He was mostly bald, and had bright intelligent eyes that scanned over Harry quickly, not missing the glasses or forehead scar. “Harry Potter,” he said, his tone respectful. “It’s an honor to be of service to you.”

Harry understood people wanting to thank him, but it frankly made him uncomfortable. “Um, yeah, thanks. I don’t actually have any lingering problems, but Madam Pomfrey thought you should examine me.”

Elliott nodded. “Let’s do a physical then. A thorough check over. Please strip down to your underwear.”

Turning away to give Harry privacy, the healer filled in a form. The physical was thorough, using various magical instruments to check his eyes, ears, teeth, lungs, and heart.

Sitting on a stool, he faced Harry. “With all you have been through, it is remarkable that you present as a fairly normal eighteen year old. My specialty is scar treatment, and I think I can fade or remove the ones you have.”

“Even this one?” Harry said incredulous, pushing back his fringe. 

Elliott grinned. “Yes, even that one. There have been big developments in this area in the last ten years.” He paused, his eyes catching Harry’s. “But I understand that you may want to leave it alone. It marks a significant event in your life, and people recognize you by it, I imagine.”

That made Harry catch his breath, and he turned his face away to look out the window. What would it be like, not being so recognizable? Would it help or hinder him in the future? 

Then he remembered how it had been last night; walking amongst friends he’d known for years, and the freedom of not being instantly recognized. 

He turned back to the healer. “Yes. Get rid of it, and any other scars. Can you do anything about my eyesight as well?”

...

Floating high in the air, Harry took a second to grab an elastic band from the pocket of his robes and scrape his hair back into a hasty low ponytail. He hadn’t bothered to get it cut for months, and it was long enough now to get in his face when he was on the broom. 

Below him were the Seekers from the six other teams, and a professional coach. Professor McGonagall had been bringing experts in all sorts of different areas to give special sessions to the students. Draco and Su from the Eighth Year league were racing each other for the snitch, and Harry could see how fast she was getting from this angle. 

It was a training snitch, so the coach was able to accio it back to him before sending Gabrielle and Romilda after it. Next round was Anderson and Harper. Harry was impressed with the younger teams’ Seekers. 

The coach looked around and waved to Harry. Obeying the summons, Harry flew down to him, looking over the 22 year old Bulgarian. Viktor Krum was still slim and athletic, which came from continuing to play as Seeker for Bulgaria. He still had the light beard along his jawline but wore his hair in a spiky style. It must take a lot of product to stay neat while he flew. 

“Harry, you partner with me, yes?” Viktor said, his dark eyes glowing with real interest. 

He had commented on Harry’s flying skills during the Tri-Wizard tournament four years ago. Harry’s stomach clenched, half in nerves, half in excitement. He was going to fly against a professional Seeker! Would he look better than he had flown four years ago, or would he seem rusty from being away from Quidditch so long?

Either way, Harry wouldn’t let this opportunity go by. He nodded with an eager smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco glaring at him. 

Well, that made a change. Since Halloween, Draco had hardly looked his way, making great pains to avoid him as much as possible. Acting like those kisses in the hallway didn’t happen at all.

Pushing away thoughts of that annoying git, Harry sat up on his broomstick and nodded to Viktor. He released the snitch, and they both waited a minute to give it a head start. 

The chase was immediately exhilarating. Viktor whooshed past him, almost a blur of speed, making Harry duck low on his broom to speed up. The snitch was sharply changing directions, making it a challenge to follow, and they were soon neck and neck. 

Within a few minutes, Viktor had the snitch in his glove. He slowed to let Harry catch up to him. “Very good, Harry. Perhaps we get drink afterwards? Talk a little?” His english was a bit improved, but his accent was still thick. 

Harry nodded, before following him back to the other Seekers. The rest of the practice had them doing other drills. 

When Harry was waiting his turn, he looked around the stands. Even though this was just a special practice, it featured a famous professional Seeker. Also, Harry was sure the secret gossip writer was there, watching the way Harry interacted with the female Seekers. Wanting more dirt to dish out. He kept his distance from everyone and his expression neutral. 

He was still being teased about the article that came out a few days ago... 

**_HARRY POTTER MAKEOVER_ **

**_Heads have been turning all over the castle in shock at Harry Potter’s new look. He has been wearing his hair longer than ever, but the suddenly disappearance of his iconic glasses and the lightning shaped scar on his forehead has had more than one swooning schoolgirl wondering if we have a hot new Eighth Year student._ **

**_People who knew his parents have long commented that Harry looks a lot like his father, James. But without his glasses, the big green eyes he got from his mother Lily are even more striking._ **

**_“He’s just dreamy,” cooed second year Hufflepuff, Thelma Thompson, who has been to every one of Heartthrob Harry’s Quidditch games and practices._ **

**_Perhaps he should change his name to Parry Hotter to go with this hot new look?_ **

**_Boys want to be him, and girls want to be with him. And that was before he became twice as fanciable with these recent changes._ **

**_The Oracle has only one thing to say to Harry... Please! No more! Give the other guys a chance!_ **

_**-Nevermind your Ps and Qs, The All-Knowing, All-Seeing Oracle is your first source of juicy Hogwarts gossip! -** _

He was pulled back into watching the other Seekers when Draco was racing with Gabrielle and somehow almost fell off his broom. Harry didn’t see what happened, just saw Draco slowing down to get his balance. Maybe the writer caught that and could blow it up into a big story. Draco distracted by the part Veela Seeker, even though she was five years younger than him. 

Draco was grouchy for the rest of the session, scowling at Gabrielle, Harry and Viktor mostly. Gabrielle grinned at him in return, and often sent flirty looks Harry’s way. Harry just rolled his eyes at her blatant hero worship and tried to concentrate on the lesson. She was getting to be just as pretty as her older sister, Fleur, but she was still much too young to interest Harry. 

...

“Shall we go into Hogsmeade?” Viktor asked Harry as they walked off the pitch later. 

“Um, sure,” Harry said, seeing Draco look their way, clearly overhearing everything. “Meet you at the front doors after I change.”

He probably just wanted to talk about Hermione. When he had seen Viktor at Fleur and Bill’s wedding, he had asked about her, and then about Ginny. Harry found the idea of Ginny dating someone five years older ridiculous. 

Ten minutes later, Viktor showed up dressed in muggle clothing, a black winter coat and dark jeans. Once outside the grounds, they apparated into the town. 

The Three Broomsticks wasn’t that busy, since it was early on a weeknight. Harry enjoyed the freedom to order a beer when the server came by, still feeling a thrill at drinking alcohol openly in public. 

Their table was along a wall, far away from the other occupied ones. But Viktor still leaned towards Harry and spoke in a low voice, clearly not wanting to be overheard. “You still fly very well.”

The compliment made Harry smile, feeling pleased that this professional player held that opinion. “I feel rusty, having so little time on the broom in recent years.”

Viktor gave a dismissive wave as the server dropped off their drinks. “I’ve seen many players, and I think there are players with natural skills, and those learned with practice. You seem to have natural skill.”

Taking a sip of the cold beer, Harry thought back to his first flying lesson at Hogwarts. He had flown after Draco, catching the rememberall easily, not even thinking about how to direct the broom. And Professor McGonagall, an experienced Quidditch player herself, had right away recommended him as the new Gryffindor Seeker to Oliver Wood. 

He must have been quiet too long, as Viktor leaned forward again, his dark eyes intense. “You don’t agree?”

Harry gave a little shrug. “I guess you are right. I haven’t thought about it much.”

“I think you should give it more thought. You could become a professional Seeker if you worked at it.”

Feeling surprised at that, Harry sipped his beer as he thought it over. The imposter Mad-Eye Moody had suggested he become an auror during fourth year, and the suggestion had stuck in his mind, despite everything that had happened since. 

“Um, so you like it? You have to travel a lot, and don’t you get injured often?” Harry asked, feeling intrigued, leaning towards Viktor.

The Bulgarian spoke about his career eagerly, telling story after story. Describing the times he had been checked while in the air and fallen off his broom, or crashed into the stands. Playing in awful weather, or games that lasted for hours when the snitch was particularly elusive. But underneath it all, he spoke with passion and quiet intensity, his love for the sport still evident even though he’d been in it for over four years.

By the time they left the pub, it was getting dark. They had had too many beers to apparate safely, so walked back to the school. Viktor was staying in the Hogwarts guest accommodation overnight. 

“How is Hermione? We still exchange letters, but not as often,” Viktor said as they neared the gates. 

Harry stopped, turning towards the older man. He could see Viktor still cared deeply for his friend, so he wanted to let him down easily as possible. “I’m sorry, Viktor, but she and Ron got together a few months ago. I know she’s had strong feelings about him for a long time...”

Viktor’s head dropped, and he looked at the ground, clearly saddened by this news. Harry reached out, setting a hand on his shoulder, and even considered giving him a hug to comfort him. 

The Bulgarian eventually looked up, and gave Harry a rueful smile. “I’m happy she has found love. She is a beautiful, smart woman, and deserves the best.”

Despite the brave words, Harry could tell Viktor wanted to be in a relationship. Remembering all the girls who had fawned over him, Harry figured he must be picky. Wouldn’t there be many women attracted to professional players? 

Harry could only nod, guiding the man into the school. “I’m sure you will find someone else, Viktor. Come, join us for some dinner.”

Viktor shook his head. “No, no, you go on ahead. Goodnight, Harry Potter.”

“Goodnight, Viktor Krum,” he replied, giving the rather formal farewell back, before turning towards the great hall.

...

\- A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading this story so far. :D


	4. More Gossip

“They look like they were about to kiss!” 

A passing fourth year girl was arguing with a friend, and Harry didn’t have to see the Oracle newsletter clutched in her hand to know what she was talking about. The image on the cover showed Harry putting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, sharing a long glance. Sure, from an outsider, it could be interpreted a certain way… 

He sighed, wishing he was under his invisibility cloak. 

Hermione nudged his shoulder and leaned towards him. “Just ignore it. In a day or two, everyone will be gossiping about something else.” 

He nodded, trudging on towards their Transfiguration class, and trying to ignore the people watching him, and whispering with their friends. After all these years, you’d think he’d be used to being talked about like this. But it usually wasn’t this personal…

Obviously, the anonymous writer was still stalking Harry, watching him closely at the Seeker practice, and then following him to Hogsmeade. 

Sure, from a distance it could have perhaps looked like a date. They had gone for drinks, talked for an hour or so, and walked back to the school. He had enjoyed getting to know the Seeker as an adult, on a more equal footing. Viktor was an intelligent man, so it was no wonder why Hermione had stayed in contact with him all these years. Plus, they had the connection of both being Seekers. 

But to stretch that to imply there was an attraction between them was ludicrous.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Draco as he passed by with Pansy and Blaise. Since Halloween, it had become more difficult to avoid staring at the blond. And when he did allow his eyes to dart over to him, it was intriguing how often Draco seemed to be looking his way, even though he quickly glanced away and acted like he hadn’t.

Ron was walking with Hermione, his arm casually slung around her waist, and Harry glanced over at them with real affection. It was already November, and they were almost half done this final year. What would happen after June?

More and more often, discussion amongst and seventh and eighth year students turned towards the future. It all felt so foreign to Harry. He had been so focussed for years on just surviving Lord Voldemort’s attacks, he had rarely given the future deep thought. 

Hermione had already received letters of interest from many departments of the ministry, as well as private industries. She had even travelled down to London one weekend with Ron, to have meetings and see what was being offered. 

Ron seemed to be leaning towards auror work. He had grown a little, and was more muscular from playing quidditch often. Harry could see him doing well in the career.

But what about him? Auror? Professional Seeker? Viktor Krum’s words had been on his mind often. 

Whatever happened, he knew that he likely wouldn’t be seeing his closest friends or most of his fellow students very often after June. It was a depressing thought.

....

The next edition of the Oracle made things even worse. Hermione, Ron and Harry waited until they were in a private corner of the common room to read it.

 _ **After our breaking news about Harry’s man-date with visiting Seeker Viktor Krum, we were inundated with information about Harry’s past that makes us think that it was not that unusual.**_

_**During the Tri-Wizard Tournament, fourteen year old Harry may have gotten deeply involved with more than one of his fellow contestants.**_

_**“Harry made a special effort to get Hufflepuff Seeker Cedric Diggory away from his friends to have private discussions,” says one Hufflepuff source, who wishes to stay anonymous.**_

_**A Ravenclaw source corroborates this. “I overheard Cedric telling Harry to meet him in the Prefects’ bathroom and even told him the password to enter!”**_

_**It seems like an ideal place for a private assignation with the handsome Hufflepuff, doesn’t it? But this wasn’t the only time Harry was seen seeking time alone with an older Seeker during that period.**_

_**“I saw Viktor and Harry whispering to each other, and then they walked off to be alone in the Forbidden forest,” says a Seventh Year student source. “I found it unusual because Viktor had taken Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball.”**_

_**But some of our reports even go back to the previous summer, when many Hogwarts students attended the Quidditch World Cup. Eyewitness accounts report that Harry seemed entranced by Viktor Krum even then, following him with his omnioculars avidly and raving over his daring Wronski Feint.**_

_**Others reported that Harry was there with the Weasley family, including the sexy and forever single dragon expert Charlie Weasley. He was the Gryffindor Seeker before Harry. Many eye witness accounts reported that Harry and Charlie shared a tent and sat together during the game.**_

_**Was this when Harry’s Seeker obsession began? When, as an impressionable fourteen year old, he developed crushes on the older Seekers Viktor and Charlie? A spark that was fed by close contact with Cedric and Viktor when they all competed for the Tri-Wizard Cup? Had Harry felt it was the Try-Wizard Tournament? Trying each one out?**_

_**That also raises questions around why Cedric and Harry seemed to be working together on the last, and sadly tragic, task of that tournament. How close had their relationship grown by then, to fight off the horrors of the maze and to touch the cup together? And no one can deny how devastated Harry was when he returned, clutching Cedric’s dead body so hard his hand had to be pried off? Was it this harsh loss that later drew him to Cho Chang, sharing their mutual grief over Cedric?**_

_**Why Harry had entered the Tri-Wizard Tournament in the first place? Most students wanted to compete for the glory of winning, along with the thousand Galleon prize. But Harry Potter was already wealthy and famous, so really he didn’t need to win it. Had he been wanting to impress the older Seekers he had crushes on?**_

_**-Nevermind your Ps and Qs, The All-Knowing, All-Seeing Oracle is your first source of juicy Hogwarts gossip! -** _

Harry looked up after reading the newsletter, trying to read the expressions on Hermione and Ron’s faces, knowing his own was a bit flushed. 

Hermione scoffed, setting her paper down. “Ignore it, Harry. We all know it’s a bunch of made-up nonsense.” 

Her instant defense was one of the things he loved about her. But was she correct? Was it all nonsense? 

He must have made a strange face, showing his conflicted feelings over the article, because she leaned towards him with concern in her big brown eyes. “It isn’t made up? You,” she glanced down at the paper, “had private discussions with Cedric Diggory?” 

“Yes, but it was only to warn him about the dragons for the first task...” Harry said quickly in his own defense. 

Ron was scoffing too. “And he told you the Prefect’s bathroom password?”

“Well, yes,” Harry swallowed hard, “but it was just so I could hear the clue from the golden egg underwater. He wasn’t in there with me...”

Hermione poked a finger at her newsletter. “And you really went on a stroll with Viktor in the Forbidden Forest?”

“Yes, but he just said he wanted to talk privately with me. And then he just asked if I was involved with you, before we found Barney Crouch Sr and all that other stuff happened...” 

Ron was chuckling over the next part of the gossip column. “Well, I know it’s true you were impressed by Viktor Krum at the World Cup. You kept going on and on about the way he flew.”

“Yes,” Harry glared at the redhead, “but you were an even bigger fan. You were the one who bought that little figurine of him.”

Ron couldn’t deny that, but looked grumpy all the same. His hero worship of Krum had been messed up when Krum had become interested in Hermione. 

“Well, I know the part about Charlie is ridiculous. You were with all of us in the tent and the stands. I can’t remember the two of you even talking much,” Hermione went on, likely wanting to divert Ron from thinking about her past with Viktor. “And the way they describe him as ‘forever single’ is just heavily implying that Charlie is gay.”

“He’s only out to friends and family. He’s a pretty private person,” Ron shrugged. The Weasleys had never made a big issue over it, just treating Charlie like everyone else. 

Harry hadn’t even thought about it that much. Sure, since Draco had kissed him at Halloween, he had been thinking about him a lot. Did that make him gay? He had been around men like Cedric and Viktor, undeniably attractive men, and never felt anything like that. He had definitely been attracted to Cho and Ginny, just wanting to be with them and kiss them. 

It was different with Draco, due to their history. They weren’t friends. They had been enemies, rivals. They had deliberately hurt each other, but they had also saved each other from harm. There was still a fierce rivalry on the Quidditch pitch, but Draco seemed to mostly ignore him otherwise. But that old awareness was always, constantly there. Harry seemed to always feel when Draco was near, and wanted to watch him. 

Was it just Harry’s old habits? Watching him from all those years of suspecting his motives? 

“Harry,” Hermione said with a concerned tone, “are you upset about the part about the final task? I know you don’t like to think about it.” 

Ron nodded. “Yeah, I know it’s a sensitive subject, but I was always curious why you touched the Cup together. He was three years older than us, and we didn’t really know him that well.” 

It took him a minute to collect himself enough to answer. “I didn’t really know him. I told him about the dragons, he told me about the egg. And in the maze, at the end, we ended up helping each other again just to survive. I suggested we both take the Cup, to share the win. And he ended up dead because of that,” Harry’s voice drifted off at the end, and he ducked his head, blinking fast. Trying to hold back his tears. 

Hermione drew him into a tight hug. “You had no way of knowing that would happen, Harry.” 

Her voice was soft and comforting, but it couldn’t take away how awful he felt about it, even after all these years. He pulled away, giving her and Ron as much of a smile as he could manage. “I’m going to bed now. Just feeling wrung out.” 

It was early, but they didn’t say anything but goodnight. Harry took his copy of the Oracle, crushing it into a small ball, and tossed it into the fire. 

... 

By December, the rumors about Harry seemed to reach their peak. He was being linked by some way or another to every living Seeker, it seemed.

The hottest gossip was around who he’d be with next. The Oracle even did a piece on the six Seekers currently on Hogwarts teams. On the junior teams, people seemed to be leaning towards Gryffindor‘s Romilda and Ravenclaw’s Gabrielle, even though she was five years younger than Harry. Ravenclaw’s senior Seeker, Su and Hufflepuff’s senior Seeker Draco were the most popular picks. 

Harry felt even more uncomfortable around Draco as a result. Draco either ignored him entirely or glared at him and made snide comments to any nearby Slytherin. 

Were those kisses on Halloween just an experiment? The result of drinking too much? Some kind of dare? As much as Harry tried to put them out of his mind, they were there every time he saw Draco. 

Since the eighth years were housed together, that was several times a day. In the dorm room, the bathroom, the common room. Even though Draco kept his distance, Harry seemed constantly aware of him. 

Every night, Harry would close the curtains around his bed, and cast a muffliato charm. Then, he would think back on all the times he’d seen Draco that day. Stretching as he got out of bed, his blond hair messy. Walking past on the way out of the showers, a towel wrapped around his waist, so much damp skin on display. Glancing at him with his friends in the great hall. Seeing him in most of his classes, working hard to get good grades. Seeing him in the library or common room studying. 

Worst was when they were in the Quidditch change rooms. With so many teams, practices often where scheduled back to back, and Harry ended up putting on his uniform as Draco was taking his off. Or vice versa. Too often, he found his gaze drawn to Draco, trying to be discrete. Worse was when he met Draco’s eyes. Caught in the act. He knew he looked guilty as his face reddened and he turned away. 

But every night, he went over all those quick glimpses he’d had of Draco during the day. Pondering over each one. Trying to get at what had him so fascinated. 

Soon, Harry would be uncomfortably aroused, and his hand would go below his sheet. Stroking with lube he conjured, closing his eyes as he let all those images of Draco flick through his mind. Invariably, as his strokes sped up, his memories of Halloween night would come up, remembering the feel of Draco’s lips, his tongue, his body against Harry’s. So intense and good. Digging his hands into his hair.

What if Draco had kissed down his neck? Bit him with those sharp teeth? Marked him? 

The thought of that usually brought Harry over the edge, gasping and trying to catch his breath. Thankful for the silencing spell and curtains for the privacy. In a dorm of teenage boys, he was thankful not to see the others wanking either. 

Was Draco touching himself, thinking of Harry? Groaning, Harry grabbed his wand to do a quick clean up spell. That could definitely be a fantasy for next time. Maybe in the morning, when he woke up hard, with wisps of erotic dreams fading. Could imagine entering the dorm room in the afternoon to grab something, and seeing Draco’s bed curtains drawn. Out of curiosity, edging closer. Hearing Draco breathing hard, and occasionally moaning. Knowing he was jerking off. Picturing slipping through the curtains and seeing Draco naked, stretched out and aroused. Acting impulsively, Harry could kiss down his chest, and help Draco out...

No point waiting until morning when he was getting hard again already. More lube helped as he thought about what he’d want to do, in great detail, if that ever happened.

...

-A/N: Things heating up a little...


	5. Yule Ball

“Who are you taking to the Ball?”

The question brought Harry out of looking towards Draco with a start. “Um, what?”

Hermione gave a little huff. “Boys,” she looked sideways at Ron, and he just grinned at her flirtatiously. “Remember Professor McGonagall’s speech at the beginning of the term? There’s four Balls a year now.”

“Come on, they aren’t that formal, are they? I thought they were just dances,” Ron shot back, seeming concerned now.

Harry thought back and seemed to recall McGonagall talking about that. Something about training students on social graces as well as getting a formal education. 

Hermione laid a comforting hand on Ron’s forearm. “The Yule Ball is more formal, but you have good dress robes now, remember? Although it would be fun to see you in those old lacy ones again.”

“She had us dress up in costumes for Halloween, fancy clothes for this one. What’s next? Kilts and sporran for the spring one?” Ron smirked towards Harry.

Harry chuckled along. “Make us dance some Highland spring fling or something?”

Hermione was too used to their humor to be bothered by it. She simply rolled her eyes at them and sipped her pumpkin juice. “I think the spring and end of term ones are more casual. But I’m looking forward to dressing up again.”

She linked her arm through Ron’s and leaned against him. He gave her a fond look and a kiss. It was nice just seeing them being a happy couple, planning to attend normal school events together, after all the drama of the past. 

“But you never answered my question, Harry. Have you asked anyone to go with you?”

Harry’s stomach dropped, reminded of how stressful it had been to get a date for the Ball in fourth year. He glanced around the hall, looking at the girls in seventh and eighth year. Most had boyfriends or were people he didn’t know that well. 

Ginny was mostly around Ernie these days, and with their past history, he didn’t feel comfortable asking her. Luna was with Neville, and Hermione with Ron. 

Romilda grinned his way, and he quickly looked away. Her potent love potion chocolates had scared him. Nearby, Gabrielle flicked her long, blond hair over her shoulder, a move that reminded him strongly of Fleur. Half the boys around her seemed mesmerized, but she still glanced flirtatiously Harry’s way. She was obviously interested, but far too young for him. 

He was shaking his head as he met Hermione’s gaze. “I’m not really into anyone, frankly. Would it be awful to go stag like I did at Halloween?”

Ron and Hermione shared a glance, and looked a little uncomfortable. There was obviously something they had discussed about Harry.

“Um, you know, um,” Ron started, flushing slightly when he looked back at Harry. “Whoever you go with, or, er, dance with...it’s OK with us.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up at this. What the hell? He glared at both of them in turn. “Don’t fucking tell me you think there’s any truth to all that bullocks in the Oracle!”

Looking around uncomfortably to see if Harry’s raised voice had gotten any attention, Hermione leaned in to talk to him in a softer tone. A concerned tone. “Harry, we are around you a lot and we’d be blind if we didn’t notice how often you look at him.”

The fact that she didn’t even mention his name spoke volumes. Harry felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Had he been that obvious? Had everyone noticed? Had _he_ noticed?

“But, has, um...” Harry started, not exactly sure what to say.

Ron put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If it helps at all, he does his share of looking at you when he thinks you won’t notice.”

It was just too much. Harry grabbed his bag and pushed back from the table. “I’m not going to Potions. Tell ‘em I’m feeling ill.” He left before they could call him back.

...

The dorm room was blissfully empty when Harry slammed the door behind him and threw his schoolbag down. His emotions were a train wreck. He didn’t know if he was mad, sad, frustrated or what. He wanted to cry, scream and hit something, all at the same time. 

Instead, he kicked off his shoes and dropped down on to his bed, his chest heaving and his heart pounding. Clearly, the two people he was closest to in the whole world he seen how much he watched Draco, and had come to the conclusion he was gay. 

Was it all because the Oracle’s articles? Pairing him with every Seeker alive? Would they have even considered the idea if his name hadn’t been out there in that way?

Besides, he had always watched Draco a lot, especially in Sixth year. There had been good reason for it, obviously. Had Harry simply gotten into the habit back then? 

Worse was the thought that he’d been even slightly attracted to Draco before this year. Before Halloween. Was it always there, simmering below the surface? Had it fed into their animosity? 

What would it be like, being in a relationship with Draco? Was it even possible? Would his parents allow it? Did they have some pure blood girl in mind for him as a future wife?

But hadn’t Draco been the one who kissed Harry first? That was proof he was attracted too, wasn’t it? 

Eventually, he calmed down. He still felt moody, and didn’t want to be around anyone for a while. Not feeling sleepy, he got up and looked around the room. 

Being a boys’ dorm, there was stuff scattered everywhere. Most students kept it around their own bed, but some things seemed to migrate on their own. Draco’s green jumper was lying on the floor not far from Harry’s bed. 

He picked it up, noting that it likely made of cashmere or some other fine material. Rolling his eyes, he carried it over to Draco’s area and dropped it on top of his closed trunk. Trust Malfoy to treat his expensive clothing like a ten sickle t-shirt. 

Standing at the end of his bed, Harry looked around. The covers were hastily pulled into place. A pile of books was on the bedside table. His Quidditch jersey was almost falling off the wooden footboard of his bed. 

Glancing around, Harry saw he was still alone. Without allowing himself to think twice, he impulsively lifted the covers and slipped underneath them. 

His heart was pounding in a whole different way now. Pulling the covers up to his chin, he snuggled into the bed, getting comfortable with a sigh. Was it just him, or was this mattress a bit softer than his own? 

Turning on to his side, he pushed his face into the pillow and inhaled deeply. It smelled of Draco’s shampoo, and something that made things tighten deep inside him. Was it sweat? The scent of Draco himself?

Closing his eyes, Harry breathed it in. It felt wonderfully decadent, and he imagined Draco finding him there. Smiling and joining him. Greeting him with hot, eager kisses and wandering hands.

Sitting back up, Harry pulled the curtains around the bed closed enough to block out the sunshine. He laid back in the shadows, closing his eyes and letting his fantasy play out. 

Perhaps it was the slight danger of the situation that made everything a bit more intense, but it wasn’t long before he unzipped his trousers. Pushing a hand into his tight briefs, he regretted that his wand was beside his own bed. He stroked slowly, but it really wasn’t right. 

His eyes flicked to the bedside table, and he opened the drawer slowly. It was crammed full of all sorts of junk, but luckily a bottle was near the top. Harry poured a generous dollop into his palm and set the bottle down on the table. 

The lube was obviously expensive, slick and not sticky at all. It even felt like the lube warmed with his motions. As Harry closed his eyes, feeling even more naughty for wanking with Draco’s lube in his bed. 

The scent of Draco helped him sink deeper into his fantasy, and he sped up, arching up into his slick fist. It was Draco’s hand, Draco touching him. Within a few minutes, he came harder than he had for ages, not minding the mess in his briefs as he laid back panting hard. 

It was right then that the door to the dorm banged open loudly, and Dean entered with Seamus. 

“It will just take two seconds for me to find it,” Dean said, walking towards his bed. 

Harry was frozen in his spot, heart pounding, barely daring to breathe. _Fuck fuck fuck..._

Moving slowly and silently, he rubbed the lube on his hand over his bare stomach, and did up his trousers, cringing at the cooling mess in his pants. He pulled his untucked shirt down, hoping it would cover everything, 

Dean’s bed was two down from Draco’s, and Harry knew he’d be seen if he didn’t move. Grateful the curtains were partially closed, he eased out the other side and lowered himself down on to the floor. Neville’s bed was the next one over, and he shifted to lie on his side facing it, as close as he could get. As far from Draco’s as possible. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

“It’s really good of you,” Seamus replied to Dean, sounding very close. He could hear Dean digging through his trunk, looking for whatever he was going to lend to his friend.

 _Let him find it quick and leave._ Harry tried to calm his breathing, trying to be silent.

“Oh!” Seamus exclaimed, and Harry knew his luck had run out. “Is that you, Harry?”

He was crouched near Harry, and he put a hand on his shoulder to roll Harry on to his back.

Harry acted for all he was worth, letting his body be limp, and acting groggy, blinking slowly up at Seamus. “Mmmmm what?”

“Dean!” Seamus said sharply, his voice concerned. 

He heard feet moving fast towards him, and Dean gawking down at him. “Harry! What are you doing lying on the floor? And way over here?”

Seamus put a hand on his forehead. “He feels hot! Maybe even a little sweaty!”

Harry could work with this. “Um, yeah....I feel a little dizzy...”. He even blinked slowly

“We better get him to Madam Pomfrey,” Dean said, shaking his head. 

It took a few minutes, but they got Harry up on his feet. 

“C-c-cold...” Harry said softly, as he sagged heavily against Seamus. 

The guys helped Harry to his bed and passed him a jumper. Sitting on the side of the bed, Harry was able to grab his wand as he pulled the jumper on. 

“Look, I’m feeling better. Just let me sleep for a while. That’s all I need,” Harry protested when they made to get him up again. 

Seamus shook his head. “No. You look awful, Harry. You really need a healer.”

But Dean was more easily swayed. “Oh, come on. Harry’s old enough to know when he needs medical attention.”

It took a few minutes to get them to leave. Harry gratefully scorgified his clothes clean, and laid back on his bed. This obsession with Draco was getting out of hand. 

...

Entering the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione, Harry was just as amazed as they were. The ceiling was dark and sparking with hundreds of stars, as glittering snowflakes fell lightly. The walls and tables appeared to be a frosty ice blue, making the room seem like entering an ice palace. Dozens of decorated evergreen trees made it clear this was the Yule ball.

All the students were dressed up in elegant dresses and dress robes. Ron seemed very proud of his own robes, looking tall and handsome in them. Hermione beamed up at him, looking beautiful in a teal gown that showed off her slim figure, her hair smoothed into an elegant twist. 

Harry had bought new dress robes as well. Although he hadn’t grown that much in height, he had filled out a lot. Hermione had helped him with his hair, using a product that had calmed it enough to wear loose. It was long enough now to touch his shoulders. 

That, along with the lack of glasses and the faded scar, still had students giving him second looks. He grinned as he took a sip of punch and sat at a table with Luna, Neville, Ginny, Ernie, Ron and Hermione. 

Luna gave him a long, thorough perusal. “It’s funny how different you look without the glasses. You really have amazing green eyes, Harry.”

Chuckling, Neville took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You are here with me. Stop gazing into other men’s eyes.”

She cuddled against him, seeming quite pleased with her date.

Ginny scoffed on Harry’s other side. “I’m just shocked Harry stopped wearing his hair in that old untamed nest.”

“I think you used to wear it like that because your Dad did,” Hermione said softly to Harry. 

Harry thought about it for a few seconds, and then nodded back at her. Funny how people used to always comment that he looked like his father, but with his mother’s eyes. It had always made him feel connected to them somehow, even though he didn’t have many memories of them. 

Was it bad that he had changed his hair? Was he deliberately trying to look less like his father? Did it really matter that much that he changed it?

The music started and Neville immediately took Luna out to the dance floor. They made an attractive couple, her deep purple dress a rich contrast to her elaborately braided blond hair. Ginny and Ernie soon joined them. 

Ron gave Harry a pained look. “Would you mind terribly if we abandoned you too? We’ve been practicing our dancing for weeks now.”

Harry shook his head. He knew Ron had made a special effort to learn this, knowing it was important to Hermione. Getting up himself, he waved towards the buffet. “You two go ahead. I’ll go look at the food.”

It was nice being able to walk slowly through the tables, saying a quick hello to his friends, avoiding meeting the eyes of the younger girls who tried to catch his attention. He took his time at the buffet table, filling a plate with a wide variety of foods. 

Finding a quiet place against a wall, Harry happily watched the Ball. In a few more months, he would be gone from this school. What would he do next? What would it be like, living far away from most of these people? They had been such an important part of his life.

He soaked it all in, enjoying the food and seeing everyone enjoying the night. It was December 21st, and almost everyone would be heading home for the Christmas break. Harry was going to the Burrow with Ron and Ginny. 

It was good seeing things looking so happy, and normal. Students worried about assignments and exams, deeply involved in Quidditch and their love lives. Not worrying about their safety, or their families. 

It was a world of difference from last year. Hermione and Harry, camping in remote spots, so cut off from the world. Only realizing it was Christmas when they were at his parents’ tombstones. A brief reminder of the season before Nagini had almost killed them. 

“You are looking much too maudlin for a party like this,” an Irish-accented voice broke through his musings. 

Seamus grinned at him. “Come outside the hall with us for a minute,” he said, waving towards Dean. 

Dean patted the inner dress pocket of his dress robes and winked at Harry. 

Leaving the hall with his friends, Harry joined a small group of eighth years gathered in a dark corner of the corridor. The music inside was switching from the formal, classical dance music to the wizarding rock band, Arcane Requiem, and everything was relaxing a little bit. 

It seemed like several flasks of fire whiskey were being passed around, and Harry felt happily buzzed by the time he went back into the hall with Dean and Seamus. He joined his friends on the dance floor, jumping and moving to the heavy beat. Just losing himself in it and having fun. 

As the night wore on, people started leaving, but the seventh and eighth year students seemed to be lingering. Maybe because it was their last Christmas at Hogwarts. Maybe because McGonagall and the other staff seemed to be turning a blind eye towards their drinking, as long as the younger students were left out of it. They knew these students needed some good times, some good memories, to balance out the past. 

Someone knocked into Harry on the dance floor, and when he turned to look it felt like time had frozen for a second or two. It was Draco Malfoy, looking tall and slim in his dress robes. His blond hair had been nicely styled before, but the dancing made some of it flop into his face. He brushed it back impatiently, his skin a little flushed from the dancing and maybe his share of the alcohol. 

He looked good, so damn good. Harry caught himself, forcing his gaze back to his group of friends. Some couples were clutching each other, swaying together, looking tired and drunk. Others seemed still full of energy, dancing energetically to the live music. 

“Last song of the night,” called out the lead singer. They started a slow song that had the established couple moving into a close hold. The rest of the dancers gave a disappointed groan, and trickled off the dance floor. 

Harry turned to go as well, giving Ron and Hermione a goodbye wave as he passed them. He felt pleasantly tired, and not as drunk as before. It would be good to get out of the dress robes and have a hot shower before bed. Sleep in, before apparating to the Burrow from Hogsmeade. 

But a hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he turned to see who it was. Shocked to see Draco standing there, his eyes steady on Harry’s. It took a few seconds to realize what he wanted, Harry’s eyebrows rising a little in surprise, and it was half in shock that he gave a small nod and stepped closer to Draco. 

Nerves made his stomach clench tight as Draco’s hand went to his waist. Feeling awkward and sure his face was flushing, his hand went to Draco’s shoulder, as Draco took his other hand. Harry’s feet seemed to forget what to do, and he lost his balance a little. 

Draco stabilized him, pulling him in closer, so their chests were touching and they were almost cheek-to-cheek. “I guess dancing is one thing the Chosen One isn’t great at.”

Harry gave a half laugh, half scoff. “One of the many things.” His heart was pounding hard, he felt a bit breathless, and he was sure his hands were getting sweaty and Draco would notice soon.

He knew they were getting lots of interested looks, but found it easy to block them out. His senses were on overload already, being this close to Draco. Smelling his spicy cologne, feeling their bodies brushing against each other as they danced. Looking down at the bare skin of his neck above his shirt collar and really wanting to kiss it. 

Before the song had ended, Draco leaned close to Harry’s ear. “Meet me in fifteen minutes. By the window,” Draco whispered to him before walking briskly away and joining Pansy and some other Slytherins. 

Knowing they were still being watched, Harry tried to conceal his shock as he headed out the opposite direction. After going to the loo, he snaked his way through the dark corridors, using a few more secret passages. 

The window he had found Draco at Halloween was empty, and he sunk down on to the ledge, feeling disappointed. Had it been some sort of big prank? Get Harry up here and stand him up?

But then two highly polished shoes were standing before him, and Harry raised his face to look up at Draco, his tentative smile widening. He was here. He was here.

Draco let out a groan, and his hand went into Harry’s hair, yanking his head back as he dived down to kiss him hard. Hot, deep greedy kisses. 

Harry’s hands went right up his shoulders, pulling him in closer, kissing him back just as frantically. This was just as good as last time, maybe even better because he’d been obsessing about it for weeks, months. 

But it wasn’t enough. With a frustrated growl, Harry dug his hand into Draco’s hair, keeping his mouth on his as he slowly rose. Pivoting the slightly taller boy against the wall beside the window and crowding against him. 

Draco seemed to approve, tilting his head back as Harry kissed and nipped down the pale skin of his neck. His breathing was just as fast, his fingers still clenched in Harry’s hair in a way that was almost deliciously painful. 

There was no way to even compare this with the sweet, slow kisses he had shared with Cho or Ginny. This sent a shockwave of pure need, pure lust right through him, making him press and rock into Draco. Feeling how hard he was as well made Harry gasp against Draco’s neck. 

Draco finally released his hair, sliding his hands down Harry’s back and ending up on his hips. He seemed to be pulling him in closer as he rocked against Harry, his eyes half closed. 

Harry found the perfect angle that left them both gasping, too far gone to even kiss anymore, their lips just brushing against each other. They were in their own little bubble, just the two of them, lost in the sensations. Every time Draco let out a soft moan or gasp, Harry felt a zing of arousal, the tension building and building.

Letting out a longer groan, Draco closed his eyes, and Harry couldn’t get over seeing him like this, lost in sensual pleasure. It sent him over the edge as well, dropping his face into the crook of Draco’s neck, just breathing his intoxicating scent in.

Almost afraid what he’d see when he opened his eyes, Harry steeled himself. Draco was still, his breathing calming and not seeming to mind Harry still pinning him against the wall. His pale grey eyes were traveling slowly over Harry’s face, lingering on his lips, which were likely swollen, and going up to his faded scar. When his eyes finally met Harry’s, his grey eyes gave away little of what he was thinking or feeling. 

“You look so much different, without the glasses...and everything,” Draco finally said softly, the hand on Harry’s shoulder flicking against his long hair. 

Harry only gave a small nod. “Is it better?” He hated that he was so curious for the answer.

Draco’s lips curved into a half-smirk and he shrugged. “Just different, mostly. I do like the hair though,” he said, pushing a hand back into it and pulling on it slightly. 

Something about that just sent a pang of arousal through Harry, his breath catching. 

He could see the spark of interest in Draco’s eyes, but he let go and pushed at Harry’s shoulder. “It’s getting late.” He pulled out his wand as he turned away, murmuring ‘scorgify’ to himself.

Harry did the same, and tugged his rumpled clothing back into place. He felt more sober now, more alive. Aware of every little movement Draco made.

This was all going to be over in a moment. Harry’s heart sank at the thought of that. He grabbed Draco’s arm, yanking him almost off balance.

“Potter, what are you-“ 

Draco’s squawk of complaint was cut off by Harry’s hard kiss, cupping his head in one hand. The blond stiffened in surprise at first, but sunk into it, kissing Harry back just as ardently. 

Harry needed more, so he kissed down Draco’s neck, nuzzling in to just smell him, and couldn’t resist nipping him hard. 

“Ow!” Draco jumped back, his hand covering the red mark, and glaring at Harry. 

But Harry wasn’t sorry for what he had done. He stared at that spot, until eventually Draco shifted his hand away, letting him properly see it. When he finally met Draco’s darkened silver eyes, he simply smiled slowly. “I wanted to give you something for Christmas. Something to remember me by.”

Draco’s eyes dropped to Harry’s mouth, and dipped further to his neck. “Should I return the favor?”

Harry nodded, and tilted his head to the side. Offering his neck to a former enemy, a former rival. Wanting to feel Draco’s teeth on him again since the bite at Halloween. 

Draco’s mouth hovered over Harry’s heated skin, his damp breath causing shivers of sensation. Harry waited, anticipation building, barely breathing. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever done, and he was already getting aroused again. 

When Draco finally closed his mouth over Harry, it wasn’t a quick little nip. His teeth sunk in firmly. His mouth sucked at the trapped skin and his tongue danced over it, mixing pleasure into the pain in a way that made Harry groan more loudly than he should have. 

He drew back, eyes glittering in satisfaction as he gazed down at the raw mark low on Harry’s neck. “Merry Christmas,” he chuckled, and turned fast to walk back to the dorm. 

Harry took the longer route, walking slower, feeling a bit fuzzy from the overload of sensations. Not wanting to face anyone if possible. Wanting to go over the whole night again and again in his mind before reality spoiled it.

Draco had been brave at the ball, dancing with Harry in front of their peers. Would it be dismissed later as drinking too much or taking a dare? Or would he actually be willing to date openly when they returned after the holidays? Would he write letters to Harry during their time apart? Should Harry write him? What would he even say?

Harry scoffed at himself as he stopped to look out over the lake in the moonlight. He was taking things way too seriously. Draco hardly even acknowledged him most of the time. Kissing and fooling around a bit when they were half-drunk hardly made a relationship. Draco was just curious, or horny, or wanted to take Harry down a peg or two. He probably had noticed Harry staring at him and decided to toy with his emotions. There could be dozens of reasons for what was happening, and the least likely was that Draco liked him too. 

The dorm room was dark and quiet. Harry took off his dress robes and stripped down to his underwear. Grabbing his toiletry bag and towel, he slipped out to the washroom. 

After taking a quick shower, he dried off and was combing out his wet hair in front of the mirror. As he leaned to the side, his wet hair moved, revealing the mark on his neck. It was almost an inch across and very dark red. 

His hand immediately covered it, and it felt warm to the touch. As his fingers traced over the raised skin, he could remember the feel of Draco’s mouth right there. 

The door swung open and Blaise entered with Draco, joking softly with each other. Draco had a slight pause at seeing Harry there, but went right back to teasing Blaise. Harry just kept combing his hair, making sure the mark was covered. 

Blaise and Draco slipped into shower stalls, hardly even acknowledging Harry’s presence. Each was slightly longer that a toilet stall, with a door that latched shut, an area to undress, and the tiled shower area beyond that.

Harry could hear their showers starting up as he brushed his teeth, and couldn’t help but imagine Draco standing naked under the water not more than a few feet away. Washing his hair, and rubbing soapy hands all over. Would he stroke his cock, thinking about what had just happened with Harry?

Feeling aroused again, Harry packed away his toiletries and collected everything. As he was about to leave, he passed by Draco’s closed door, and snagged the undershirt that was draped over the top of the stall door beside his towel. Hiding it within his own towel, Harry rushed quietly back to the door room. 

With his bed curtains pulled tightly closed, Harry spread out Draco’s shirt over one side of his pillow, and rested his head beside it. His hand went down into his underwear as he leaned in, inhaling deeply. The scent was pure Draco. A mixture of cologne, soap, sweat and his own natural scent. Closing his eyes tight, Harry replayed every second he’d had with Draco tonight. 

…

-More fun times...


	6. A Cold January

“How about this one?” Hermione asked Ron, holding up a maroon jumper with a twinkle in her eye. 

Ron scoffed, and nudged against her shoulder playfully. “Not even if it was 75% off.” 

Looking over the table of folded jumpers, Harry felt a little overwhelmed. Did he really need anything, even if the prices are good?

Passing Ron a small pile, Hermione pushed him towards a change room. She turned towards Harry, cocking her head a little to the side. “Do you want any help picking some out?”

He shrugged. “Do I really need new clothes?” When Hermione had sent them an owl after Christmas suggesting this get together in London, Harry hadn’t thought they would be spending so much time in the crowded muggle department stores. 

“Harry! Yes, yes you do,” Hermione chuckled, stepping to his side and digging through the jumpers with determination. “We spent the last year living in the rough and have either worn out or outgrown everything.”

She held up a cable knit to him, and he grudgingly accepted it. Working together, they found a few others in his size. 

“Don’t you see, Harry?” Hermione said softly as they looked through a rack of shirts. “It’s just like how you decided to let a healer get rid of your scars and fix your eyesight. About wearing your hair like that. You can pick the clothes that suit the man you are now. You can let go of the past and do what feels right.”

Harry gave her a half-smile. “Some people find it strange I’m trying to look so much different. Like I’m rejecting the past. Trying not to look like my father as much.”

She shrugged. “People are always going to talk, especially about you. I think you are just trying to define yourself, like everyone else our age is. Decide what to do for our careers, our future.”

In the change room, he pulled on a teal crew neck. When he looked in the mirror, he found that the color made his eyes look even greener. Without the glasses, they seemed more prominent on his face already. Was that a good thing?

When he came out of the change room, Hermione smiled and nodded. “That’s good on you. You look quite handsome.” 

His face heated a bit at the comment, and he went back into the change room. Gazing into the mirror a little longer. Would Draco like this? When they were back at Hogwarts, would they be dating? Going out together? Should he get some nice clothes, just in case?

 _What the fuck._ No matter what happened with Draco, Hermione was right. He was an adult now, and it was time he bought some new clothes. 

After that, he was much more motivated. Working their way through the store, he ended up with jeans, shirts, shoes and a new coat as well. Hermione had bought a fair amount as well. Ron hadn’t, claiming if he was accepted into the auror program, his uniforms would be provided. Hermione and Harry knew it was mostly his lack of money, but kept their mouths shut. 

But Ron’s comment reminded Harry just how little time they had left. Six more months, and Ron would likely be working in Magical Enforcement. Hermione would likely be in some research program, surrounded by stacks of books as tall as she was. And who knew where Harry would be? With Ron, or with a professional Quidditch team, like Viktor suggested? It was so strange, thinking about living in a completely different place, far, far away from everyone he knew. 

While waiting for Hermione to go through a checkout, he dug through a clearance bin, and found a soft cashmere scarf in Slytherin green. He went to an open cashier, and quietly bought it, slipping it discretely into a bag with his other purchases. 

…

“This round is on me,” Hermione said insistently, and waved the server over. 

Ron and Harry mumbled their thanks, both of them subdued. 

Nearby, the Hufflepuff team was celebrating noisily. Hannah, Zacharias, Ernie and Justin had played well together, and Harry couldn’t be mad at them for winning. But it didn’t stop him from glaring at Seamus, who was playing as one of their Chasers. Seamus had looked slightly guilty at first, but into his second butter beer, he was singing Hufflepuff songs with the rest.

“You should be celebrating with your teammates, Draco,” a woman said from a table on their other side. 

Harry would recognize Narcissa Malfoy’s voice anywhere, and tried to be discrete as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting with Draco, likely up to watch his Quidditch game and taking him out for a casual meal afterwards. It was brave of her to show her face here, without her husband at her side. He had always come to Draco’s games in the past, his long silver blond hair easy to spot in the stands. Watching Draco with his head held high, sneering at Harry Potter whenever he had a chance. But he was in Azkaban prison since his trial in the summer. 

“It’s fine, mother,” Draco replied, in a low tone. Sounding flat and unenthused, despite just winning an important game. Despite beating Harry to the snitch. 

Hermione reached across the table to rest her hand on Harry’s forearm. “Would you like to move to a table a little further away… from everyone?” 

Her concerned eyes just made him shake his head and sit up a little straighter, throwing his shoulders back. So what, they had lost the game today. So what, it was the closest he’d been to Draco in a month. So what, the other Seeker hadn’t looked him in the eye since coming back to school in January. Hadn’t talked to him, and seemed to not even see him in the hallways or classes. 

“Here’s fine, Hermione,” Harry said stubbornly, and took too big a swallow of his drink, ending up coughing and sputtering a little. 

Ron whacked his back a few times. ‘You OK there, mate?” 

Hermione just sighed. “Obviously not. Did he ever even talk to you, Harry? Explain why things had changed so suddenly?” 

“There was nothing to explain,” Harry bit out, keeping his voice down. “He didn’t break any promises to me or anything. You know what it’s like at school sometimes. Sometimes people try things out, experiment…but realize it’s not really for them.” 

The only good thing that had happened in January was that a new scandal had come out in regards to Dolores Umbridge’s love life in her youth. The juicy story had seemed to wipe Harry Potter and his ‘Seeker Obsession’ from everyone’s minds. He hadn’t appeared in the Prophet or even the Oracle for weeks. It was blissful to have people whispering about someone else for a change, and he didn’t get as many looks as he walked around the school.

Perhaps it was good that things had fizzled out. Clearly Draco had changed his mind about Harry for some unknown reason. At least they weren’t sharing lingering glances or anything else to feed the old gossip. 

Only Ron and Hermione seemed to recognize how crappy Harry felt about it. They were giving him frequent concerned looks and trying their best to distract him and keep to upbeat topics. All Harry really wanted was to be left alone. He’d get over it in his own time. 

When he had returned to Hogwarts after Christmas, he had been so excited to see Draco again. Hug and kiss him hello. Perhaps arrange for a proper date. The idea of spending time together, dating openly, being able to kiss and touch...it had kept Harry going all through the holidays. 

Instead, Draco had avoided his gaze, and given him the cold shoulder. Turning towards Blaise and Pansy, shutting him out. Even in the dorm or the showers, Draco seemed to stuck close to Blaise. Avoiding being alone with Harry, it seemed.

Harry felt crushed. A complete fool. He had taken the undershirt he’d stolen from Draco out of his trunk, and left it in a pile of his dirty clothes. Whenever he opened his trunk, he saw the green scarf, wrapped in holiday paper, mocking him. He really should get rid of it, but he hadn’t had the stomach to do it yet. Some part of him was holding on to the hope that things could somehow change back.

Nodding, Hermione changed the topic to the newest information about Umbridge. “Do you hear when she travelled in her Gap Year, she was photographed smoking gilly weed and riding centaurs?”

Ron was laughing hard at that. “Do you think she was just going through a rebellious period before becoming such an uptight dictator?”

Harry smiled and acted like he following along. But whenever he could, he snuck a glance at Draco. Sullenly drinking his beer as his mother chatted on, seeming to try to cheer him up.

...

-A/N: The boys are on a bit of a rollercoaster... Thanks for reading!


	7. Valentines

Harry sighed as more owls entered the great hall at supper, with several heading his way. Soon, their table was cluttered with many pink envelopes and heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Harry warned Ron about love potions when he had eyed them with interest.

“Just be thankful Gilderoy Lockhart isn’t here anymore. The hall would be full of Valentine decorations again,” Ron joked, opening one of the letters.

Hermione was giggling as she read another letter. “I think it’s the fourth marriage proposal today! This woman has a seaside cottage and is an excellent cook.”

Harry could only shake his head and shove the other letters towards them as he ate his shepherd’s pie. All day, he had girls giggling and flirting with him. Valentine letters and packages had arrived at all three meals. The students who weren’t try to flirt with him were openly laughing at all the attention. 

The exception was Draco Malfoy. He seemed grouchier and even more distant today, even though Pansy and the other Slytherins seemed to making lots of jokes at Harry’s expense. The one person Harry would still like a Valentine from, despite having only minimal contact with him for almost two months. He sighed at his own foolish heart. It made him nicer towards the girls giving him attention. He knew how much it hurt to be in a one-sided relationship. 

“I think I’m going to go up to the common room. Try to get some studying in,” Harry said, standing up.

Hermione and Ron scooped up his mail and followed him out of the great hall. Right outside the entrance, a dwarf wearing gold wings and carrying a harp was waiting for Harry. Before he could react, the dwarf strummed his harp and started singing enthusiastically.

 _“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_  
_His hair is as dark as a blackboard,_  
_I wish he was mine,_  
_He’s really divine,_  
_The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!”_

Harry was a deep red color by the end of it. Ron and Hermione were chuckling, and patting him sympathetically on the back. Ginny and Ernie walked past, holding hands, and she winked at Harry. 

“Did you send that?” Harry asked her, with a clearly irritated tone.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Not this time.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her admission of sending the first one, when she was just a first year with a big crush on him. He looked around at the people standing nearby; Ron and Hermione who were trying to hold back their laughter, Neville and Luna, who also seemed amused but weren’t crass enough to be chuckling at him, and a group of Slytherins laughing hard. 

Draco was with them, but seemed to be glaring at Blaise Zambini. Harry followed his gaze, and was surprised when Blaise winked at him.

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Harry spun around and stomped back to the eighth year common room. Hermione and Ron scampered after him. 

“Did you see that?!” Ron said as they climbed the stairs, his tone incredulous. “I think Blaise is the one who sent the singing Valentine.”

Hermione giggled. “Well, you’ve been spending more time with him since he’s been on the Gryffindor team, right? Is there any way he just meant it as a friendly joke?”

As Harry climbed into the common room, he considered her point. Blaise had always been a fairly reserved student, hanging out with the Slytherins, but not joining in on their bullying. Like when they wore ‘Potter Stinks’ badges or sang ‘Weasley is Our King’, Blaise had no part of those things. 

Since he’d been on the team, he had actually gotten along pretty well with everyone, and played decently. But Harry wouldn’t consider him a friend, and definitely hadn’t picked up on Blaise wanting anything else. 

“It’s just a joke. He’s not even gay,” Harry said as he found a good chair near the fire. 

Ron shrugged. “I think he might be bi, actually. Just stuff I heard here and there.”

Hermione asked him for details, but Harry pulled out a textbook and pretended to study, letting their discussion fade out. His mind was stuck on how Draco had glared at Zambini. Come to think of it, he seemed to be watching Harry more today than he had for weeks. Had all the Valentines bothered him?

The thought made him feel a bit warmer, and suddenly an idea hit him. “Um, I’m just going to go for a walk. Need some time alone,” Harry mumbled, when Hermione and Ron shot him curious looks.

He slipped out of the common room and picked the quieter hallways to walk down. His heart was pounding and he was calling himself ten kinds of fool. It had been over, dead and over, for weeks now. Almost two months. Still, his foolish heart kept thumping faster as he got closer to his destination. 

The window was empty though. Sighing, Harry sunk down onto the wide ledge, pulling his legs up against his chest to hug his knees. Sinking his face down to rest against them, feeling a pang of pure loneliness.

At times, it felt like everyone was pairing up or at least dating a lot. Exploring that side of being a teenager. For Harry, there had been so many good starts that crashed. Cho, almost over before it began. Ginny, hunting for horcruxes taking precedence, and not being able to recapture that spark later on. 

And Draco. Mr. Hot and Cold. Acting like he wanted Harry one day, and not even looking his way the next. 

Would he ever be able to just have a normal relationship?

His face was a bit damp, and he wiped away the tears with impatient hands, and stared out towards the silver moonlit lake. 

But then he sensed a presence nearby, a wafting of the air, a bit of warmth, a light scent...something, and his heart squeezed hard in his chest when he turned his head and saw Draco standing there.

“You came...,” Harry said inanely, finding it hard to catch his breath. It was strange, being here with Draco, their place, and both being completely sober. Staring at each other, unblinking.

Draco’s jaw seemed to tighten, before he lifted his chin a bit defiantly, never looking away from Harry. “Why are you here, Potter? You had enough people sending you cards and gifts today...”

“I only want you, Malfoy,” Harry rushed to say. Not wanting any of that crap to distract Draco from what Harry really felt. 

The blond’s eyes widened at the bald admission, and he stepped closer, his gaze dropping to Harry’s mouth.

Lowering his legs, Harry stood up, wonderfully close to Draco. Without letting himself consider it too long, Harry put a hand on Draco’s shoulder as he leaned in, kissing him firmly. 

Draco stiffened up at first in surprise, but seemed to melt right away, sinking into the kiss with a low moan. 

The sound went right through Harry, arousing him completely. His arms wrapped around Draco, pulling him in tight as Harry’s kissing intensified. Practically eating him alive. 

“Fuck, I want you too,” Draco gasped, when Harry moved to kiss down his neck. His hands were on his back, kneading into his jumper.

Pulling back, Harry surveyed Draco’s face. He seemed sincere, but a part of Harry wondered if he just said it, caught up in the moment. Would he say the same thing tomorrow?

But he was too greedy for this man to let an opportunity slip away. Taking Draco’s hand, he tugged him down the hallway. “There must be somewhere we can get a bit of privacy.”

Draco suddenly gave him a happy but wicked grin that made Harry’s toes curl. “The Prefect bathroom...”

Nodding, Harry headed even faster in that direction. The idea of being with Draco in that huge, fantastic bathtub was almost too much. 

He stood outside, breathing fast, and uttered the password Ron had told him. He had access in his sixth year as Quidditch captain, but Ginny was the captain this year. Likewise, Draco had been Prefect previous years but wasn’t now. 

Once inside, Harry cast a locking charm on the door that would take more than _Alohomora_ to open, and cast _Muffliato_ as well. It was unlikely anyone would come here at this time of night, but he wanted to be sure they weren’t interrupted. When he turned, it was to see Draco already turning the taps on, filling the big bathtub with hot water and fragrant bubbles. 

Gathering his nerves, Harry took off his shoes and socks, and pulled his jumper off over his head. He was thankful now that he wasn’t wearing glasses, as they would have fogged up with the steam and he would have missed watching Draco undressing. 

They walked towards each other, undoing buttons on their shirts, almost non-verbally challenging each other to keep going. Harry’s Gryffindor daring made him continue, even though his hands were shaking.

Together, they pulled off their shirts. Harry, finally getting a chance to see more than a fleeting glance of Draco, finally able to look his full. 

But then Draco’s hands went to his belt, fumbling with it a bit clumsily, making Harry realize he was nervous and excited too. Harry rushed to catch up, his belt undone, opening his trousers, his eyes catching Draco’s as he slid everything downwards. Draco matched him, and within seconds they were stepping out of their clothes, and tossing them to nearby chairs. 

Naked, Harry felt a bit self conscious, and hastily stepped into the bath to sink under the bubbles. This was suddenly all a bit much. He closed his eyes, easing lower into the hot water, letting it relax him, calm his thumping heart. 

He felt the water moving next to him and opened his eyes to see Draco sitting on the ledge right next to him, his blond hair starting to curl with the wet heat. 

His grey eyes seemed dark and enormous in the dim light of the room, looking over Harry’s face and going down to his chest. He reached out a tentative hand towards his head, and Harry closed his eyes at his light touch. His damp fingers traced over the faint lightening shaped scar.

Harry opened his eyes again, loving how close Draco was. “I asked the healers to fade it,” he said, answering the unspoken question. He lifted Draco’s left arm from the water, looking at the faint remains of his Dark Mark. “Did you do that too?”

Shaking his head, Draco’s fine hair slid towards his face as he looked down at Harry tracing over the curve of the snake. “When Voldemort died, it faded almost immediately. It seemed to burn, making us all cry out and lift our sleeves. It faded from my parents’ arms at the same time. It’s how we knew we were finally free of him, before the news officially came out.”

Daringly, Harry’s hand traced over the faint scars of Draco’s chest, hardly noticeable at all now. The sight of them still brought up a pang of guilt, feeling awful at how badly he had hurt Draco. “But you had these treated?”

Draco nodded, closing his eyes with a hiss as Harry continued to touch him. Exploring the beautiful expanse of wet, pale skin, his slim but muscular chest. 

He looked so gorgeous, sitting there so trustingly, bubbles up to his ribs. But Harry knew he was naked under the foamy water, and let his hand slide downwards. His eyes were on Draco’s face as he touched his erection, wrapping his hand around it. 

It was the first time he’d ever touched another man’s cock, and he explored slowly, taking in everything. Watching as Draco responded, his mouth opening in a silent gasp, panting and tensing up. Harry leaned in, capturing his lips, needing his kiss. 

Draco’s hand dug into his hair, deepening the kiss. His other hand was on Harry’s thigh under the water, sliding upwards. His hand found soon found him, and Harry groaned at his touch. 

It was a blur after that. Touching, stroking, hungry kisses. Neither of them able to hold back, the build-up to this moment having them already so aroused. Holding each other tight as they peaked within seconds of each other. 

Draco pulled back out of Harry’s loose hold, sinking completely under the water, and bursting out of it a few feet away. He smiled at Harry before going beneath the surface again. 

That was the only warning Harry got before he felt a hard tug on his ankle. He sank deep into the water, his arms thrashing about to get back to the surface, sputtering. Glaring at Draco, he wiped the water off his face. His hair was a sodden mess, half of it escaped out of his small, low ponytail. 

He took off the band, and set it on his wrist, pushing his wet hair back off his face. He hadn’t been swimming with it this long, and it felt a bit odd.

But he couldn’t worry about it long, as Draco sent a huge splash of water over him. Harry returned it as good as he got, splashing each other, before Harry dived for the other man. Wrestling and trying to shove each others’ heads under the water.

Wet, naked bodies bumping together, they soon cared more about touching and exploring than fighting. Harry loved running his hand down the length of Draco’s back, and then over his small round ass. Draco had both hands on Harry’s, pulling him in closer. He was already half-hard again, and feeling that Draco was in a similar state just made him moan.

Draco maneuvered them so Harry was sitting back on the ledge with Draco straddling him. It was perfect to rock together and kiss, starting slow. Harry’s hands were still on Draco’s ass, keeping him near. Draco seemed to like Harry’s longer hair, running his fingers through the wet strands as they shared kiss after kiss. 

The earlier urgency was gone, and Harry just enjoyed being able to kiss and touch each other. “This was a very good idea,” he sighed, tucking his face against Draco’s neck. Right at the spot he’d marked before. He was tempted to do it again. 

“I have another good idea,” Draco said, climbing off Harry. 

He was about to protest, when Draco turned around to sit on the edge of the bath, legging dangling in the water but otherwise beautifully wet and exposed to Harry’s gaze. 

Kneeling on the ledge in front of Draco, Harry was still mostly under the water. Draco widened his legs with a pleased smile, letting Harry get even closer. Harry slid his hands up Draco’s thighs, and gathering his nerves, leaned in to kiss Draco’s cock. Draco gasped, and his hands went back into Harry’s hair. 

The response gave Harry the confidence to do more, exploring with his hands and mouth. It felt amazing, having a thick, hard cock pushing along his tongue, taking him deep, almost choking on him. Greedy for everything. Tasting his pre-cum, and loving it. Draco’s hands guided him into a rhythm. 

Draco returned the favor once he had his breath back. Harry watched with rapt attention, the sight of Draco’s lips wrapped around his cock the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He was so aroused by now it didn’t take long.

Afterwards, they sat side-by-side, holding hands. Both seemed unsure of what to say, but reluctant to leave. 

Finally Harry raised their joined hands. “I think you are getting as pruney as I am.” 

Draco let go to hold his hand up for closer inspection. “Yes,” he sighed. And he gave Harry a resigned expression before climbing out of the bath. 

Watching Draco dry off and dress was almost as compelling as watching him strip. Harry probably missed a button or two on his shirt before he pulled his jumper back on. 

They used their wands to dry their hair, and Harry smoothed his hair as much as possible back into the low ponytail. 

He was tempted to ask if this was more than just a one-off, but couldn’t find the words. Would Draco talk to him tomorrow? Acknowledge him in the halls? Act like a boyfriend?

The last one was probably too much to ask for. Clearly Draco was attracted to him, but fighting either himself or his family over it. Harry couldn’t fix either of those things. 

“Um, how about you leave first?” Harry said, once he removed the privacy spells. “I’ll give it five minutes or so.”

Draco nodded, but gave Harry a quick goodbye kiss before leaving. It left him tingling, wondering if it was the start of many, or the last ever.

...

-A/N: A good Valentine’s Day for both of them. Still not talking much, as they really need too...

-Thanks for reading & giving this fairly fluffy fic a chance. There will be two more chapters.


	8. Spring Fling

Harry felt a hard tug on his lower arm, and tried to keep his balance as he was pulled into a dusty alcove behind a tapestry. He was being kissed hard, and pressed against a wall by someone with very familiar hands. 

“Draco,” Harry gasped with a laugh, pulling away, “I need to get to Herbology.”

The blond just groaned and tried to kiss Harry again. “Just five minutes,” he whispered as his hand went to Harry’s belt. 

It was hard to resist, but Harry regretfully pulled his hands away. “I really can’t now. How about tonight, around eleven?”

It had been like this all month, stolen moments whenever they could get them. Long sessions in the Prefect bathroom at least once a week, making out in dark corners during the day. 

“I can’t tonight,” Draco pouted, but then his expression brightened. “But it’s a Hogsmeade trip this weekend, right?”

Harry stilled, his heart beating faster. Was Draco going to ask him to go together? A proper date? In public? Hold his hand? “Um, yeah...”

Draco leaned in so their foreheads were touching. “We could meet behind the Three Broomsticks, and apparate far away for a few hours. Just the two of us.” 

It was something he had mentioned in the bath, the fantasy of apparating away to a muggle hotel. Having a proper bed and privacy for a few hours.

Harry pulled back, the difference of what he’d been hoping for to what Draco wanted glaringly obvious. Sure, he had liked the idea of being in a hotel room with Draco, but something about it just seemed amiss. “Um, I gotta go,” he said, pushing the tapestry away to escape.

He practically ran all the way to the greenhouse, and was mostly quiet the whole lesson. Ron and Hermione shot him concerned looks, but he just gave them a smile to show he was OK. It must have been wobbly, as it didn’t settle them down at all.

Afterwards, they headed back for lunch in the great hall. As was usual these days, Hermione and Ron held hands as they settled beside each other at the long table. Nearby were other 7th and 8th year couples, Ginny with Ernie, Luna with Neville. Harry sighed, not moving to join them.

Turning away, Harry almost bumped into Romilda Vane. As always, she eyed him with predatory glee, and for once he didn’t mind it so much. “Hi Romilda,” Harry said softly.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Hi yourself,” she replied with a flirtatious smirk. “Want to join me for lunch?”

She waved towards the Ravenclaw table, even though she was a Gryffindor, and Harry saw she was indicating some empty spots near the two Ravenclaw Seekers, Su and Gabrielle. 

Harry swallowed hard. If he sat there, it would like pouring gasoline on the Seeker romance rumors that had died down after Christmas break. 

_Fuck it._ Harry nodded, feeling a surge of pleasure at her delight in his response and the way she proudly led him over to the table. Gabrielle and Su were just as amazed, and within minutes the four of them were in a deep conversation about their favorite professional Seekers. 

It was wonderful, having the three girls talking with him so animatedly, often passing him food they thought he might like, hanging on his every word. Romilda seemed to be moving closer on his left side, often ‘accidentally’ nudging her shoulder against his. 

Gabrielle on his right side was just as bad a flirt, even though she was so much younger. She had learned a lot from Fleur, and Harry could see it in the way she flicked her long blond hair over her shoulder and let her eyes sparkle at his jokes. 

Su sitting across from him wasn’t flirting, as Harry thought she was more into girls than boys. But he still enjoyed her insight into the moves the French Seeker had used in yesterday’s match. 

Somehow, this interesting conversation turned back to the Hogwarts teams. Eventually, it went into general school gossip, and Harry let the conversation flow on as he served himself a big piece of treacle tart. He felt someone’s eyes on him, and saw that Draco was glaring at him, not looking impressed.

Harry looked away, eating his dessert, even though he suddenly had little appetite for it. Why had it just felt so strange with Draco today?

They had been meeting up almost daily in secret corners all over the school the last month. It had been exciting and fun, never knowing when Draco would drag him into a deserted classroom to make out for ten minutes, or meeting up for a longer session in the bath. They had learned so much about each other, being so open together. 

Today, Draco’s request that they go away somewhere private for a day should have had him ecstatic. They could apparate to a muggle town and get a hotel room as adults. Have hours of sex and order room service. Do things they never had before.

The thought was exciting, but at the same time, Harry felt bad. 

“Harry!” Romilda said with a laugh, and he looked up. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for a full minute.”

“Oh sorry,” Harry said, turning his thoughts away from Draco. “Zoned out there for a while.”

She smiled slowly, her predatory look back. “We were just talking about the dance next week. Are you going?”

The spring dance. Harry’s lips flattened into a straight line. “Um, yeah, I suppose. I went to the last couple, and they were fun.” Unbidden, memories of what had happened after them with Draco flashed through his mind.

Romilda nodded. “I was thinking of going too, but I don’t have a date.”

It was very blatant what she wanted, but Harry again felt pleased at someone who wasn’t afraid to be so obvious that they liked him. “Would you like to go with me?” 

“That would be great!” Romilda gushed, her voice a bit too loud and her smile too wide. She sent a victorious look at Gabrielle and Su, like she’d won a big prize.

Harry chuckled uncomfortably. “Um, yeah, well, let’s figure out the details later. I better get to class.”

He excused himself, almost tripping in his haste to get away and be on his own again. His emotions were all over the place today. He left the great hall without a backward glance.

An hand grabbed him, yanking him into a smaller hallway. Draco glared at him. “What the fuck are you doing? Sitting with your fan club, letting them fawn over you like that? It was disgusting!” 

The hissed words and Draco’s flashing eyes made Harry stand up straighter, giving as good as he got. “What business is it of your’s who I sit with? You have no claim on me.”

Draco’s eyes widened and then hardened. “Is that so, Potter?”

Harry rolled his own eyes. “Yes. It was nice being with people who aren’t afraid to be seen with me in public, aren’t afraid to have people know they like me. Romilda is even going to be my date for the dance next week.”

“The Savior and his Sycophant. What a lovely couple,” Draco hissed, his silver blue eyes narrowed. 

It was true, and Harry was at a loss for a response. All he could do was lift his chin to a proud angle, and march away from Draco. 

...

“Romilda Vane?” Ron said incredulously as he pulled on his dress robes. He looked handsome, with his hair newly trimmed and the robes making him look tall and slim. 

It struck Harry suddenly that Ron was a man now. In his baggy muggle clothes or wrinkled school robes, it was easier to miss that. 

Turning, he looked in the mirror at his own reflection and realized that he looked older too. Although not as tall as Ron, he was a decent height now and had to shave daily. For the dance, he had worn his hair loose, tamed with a bit of Sleek-Easy. It brushed the top of his shoulders. 

Harry sighed as he smoothed down the lapels of his dress robes. “I just wanted to go to one of these dances with a proper date.”

Ron scoffed. “Well, just don’t leave your food or drinks unattended around her. That love potion she gave me was strong.”

Not bothering to correct Ron that the potion had been meant for Harry, he went to the door. “I’m sure she’s outgrown doing things like that.”

He headed down to the main entrance, where he had agreed to meet her. In some ways, he was looking forward to the night. She was a pretty girl and Harry knew she would make an effort to wear a beautiful dress. They would dance a lot and just have fun. Harry would make sure she understood it was just for the night. 

Already, he could hear the music of the dance starting. It tended to be classical for the first hour or so, as all the students arrived and everyone admired each other in their finery. Dancing the more formal, elegant styles meant to display yourself to anyone watching. After an hour, pop music would start up and everyone would let loose. Dancing with more and more abandon as the night wore on. 

There were a few other students waiting for their dates as well, but nobody seemed in the mood for chatting. It suited Harry fine. He positioned himself near a wall, idly watching the other couples pairing up and drifting towards the great hall.

 _She’s really late._ Harry thought later as he looked at a grandfather clock nearby in irritation. For a girl who had been after Harry for years, this seemed really odd. There was no one else waiting in the entrance with him now. Had he been stood up? It would be so embarrassing. 

Just as Harry was trying to think what to do next, someone did show up nearby. Not Romilda Vane, though. Draco Malfoy, his hair slicked back and his dress robes impeccable. His grey eyes looked large, his chin as pointy as ever, but Harry’s heart just began to thump at the sight of him.

“Oh, are you meeting your date here too?” Harry asked as the awful realization hit him. Draco had probably asked Pansy or some other Slytherin girl to the dance, just to retaliate against Harry’s date. Could he bear watching Draco dancing and smiling down at some girl all night?

Draco stepped right in front of Harry, his face carefully blank. “Actually, your date came down with a sudden...illness. She won’t be able to attend tonight. I thought I would step in to her place.”

Harry was at a complete loss for words for a full minute, just staring at Draco in shock. “You, you....did something to Romilda?”

“She’ll be fine by the morning,” Draco said with a dismissive wave. He held his hand out to Harry. “Shall we go into the hall?”

Still feeling stunned at this sudden change, Harry almost numbly took Draco’s hand. It was slightly clammy, and it felt good to know that Draco was nervous about this, about tonight, but doing it anyways. It made him seem more real to Harry somehow. They were really doing this.

Giving Draco’s hand a squeeze as they entered the great hall together, Harry could see heads swivel their way. The whispers started immediately, traveling through the crowd amazingly fast. Within five minutes, every student and staff member knew that Harry and Draco were at the dance. Together. On a date.

Draco wasn’t as used to this level of attention, and Harry could see a flash of doubt in his eyes. His own Gryffindor bravery took over, and he tugged Draco on to the dance floor. Standing straighter than ever, he proudly led Draco through the formal steps, concentrating on his handsome dance partner. Letting the world narrow to just the two of them.

This was truly something he never thought he’d get a chance to do. It was so much better, dancing with someone you cared about deeply. Every touch of their hands, or brush of their bodies together, sent sparks through Harry. 

He met Draco’s eyes often, and could see his own defiance was firmly there now. Everything was out in the open now. He would not shrink away and be ashamed, despite everyone talking about them. He would stand tall and beautiful, daring people to judge him. 

Dancing together was good. They showed everyone that they were a couple and not hiding it. Let everyone see that. Let them talk about it and get used to it, while they danced. Removed from hearing any of it with the loud music. Concentrating just on each other.

...

“Are you thirsty?” Harry said softly, his cheek against Draco’s and his mouth close to his ear. He was tempted to press a kiss to the soft skin there. He smelled incredible. “Want to get a drink?”

It was getting late, and already about half the students had left the great hall. Harry felt a bit tired from the drama of the night, and all the dancing, but he didn’t want this date to end. Draco being so perfect, so brave. Would it all be over tomorrow? Harry was half afraid Draco would revert back in the morning. Tell everyone Harry had put an _Imperious_ curse on him or something. Deny everything.

Pulling back, Draco nodded with a bit of a smirk. He took Harry’s hand, and drew him right out of the hall.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked as they went up the stairs and Draco took a sharp left into a narrow hallway. Harry thought he knew the castle well, but being with Draco the last month had shown him many areas he didn’t know. 

Draco just smirked again, a more normal one. As they walked on, his tension from being at the dance faded, and he seemed more himself. 

Eventually, he pulled Harry into a dark room and performed the familiar locking and silencing spells to ensure their privacy. The words were practically foreplay to Harry now, and he felt a powerful surge of desire for his date. 

With a flick of his wand, Draco ignited a dozen candles spaced around the room, and Harry looked around in wonder. It was likely an old office for a professor, but Draco had draped a tablecloth over the desk. Cold drinks and food were spread out over it, held at the perfect temperature with a stasis charm. A large red sofa was set against a wall, looking extremely comfy but entirely out of place. 

“You did all this,” Harry said softly, gob smacked, “for me?”

Draco squeezed his hand. “For us,” he murmured, pulling Harry to the desk. “Let’s eat. I hardly had any supper since I was so nervous about tonight.”

They filled their plates eagerly and sunk down on to the sofa. Everything was delicious, but Harry probably didn’t eat slowly enough to really appreciate it. Draco was just as ravenous. 

By the time they set their empty plates down, they were both stuffed. Draco stood up. “I think we should get more comfortable. Out of these confining dress robes.”

Harry grinned as he stood up as well, happy when Draco stepped closer to start working on the buttons of his shirt. His own hands raised to Draco’s clothing. This felt familiar, but no less exciting. Whenever they had time for a longer session, like in the Prefect bathroom, they started like this. Stripping each other. Harry loved seeing more and more of Draco’s pale, smooth skin. He had mapped it all out thoroughly with his hands and mouth, worshipping every inch. 

Naked, they laid down side by side on the sofa. It was long and deep, easily fitting both of them. They cuddled close, Draco kissing along Harry’s jaw until he reached his lips. 

Harry had expected it to intensify then, the desire that had been building all night taking over. But Draco was holding back, simply kissing Harry slow and thoroughly. 

With a frustrated moan, Harry rocked against Draco, feeling his erection brush against his own. Gasping, Harry shifted closer for even better contact, sinking into the sensation combined with Draco’s ardent kisses.

They had never just made out like this, kissing just for the sake of kissing. When Draco did not allow things to be rushed, Harry sunk into this, trying to ignore his straining cock to focus better on Draco. His hands stroked lightly, lazily, over Draco’s long back, along his shoulders and arms, and played with his hair. Listened to his deeper breathing, and the way he would inhale sharply when Harry hit a good spot. Kissing along his neck to feel the light rasp of his whiskers against his lips, his tongue. Tasting and smelling him, never close enough.

Draco touched him too, seeming to enjoy discovering their differences. Draco was slim, long and lithe, strong but not bulky. Harry wasn’t bulky either, but he was more solidly built, and his arms and legs fairly muscular. His hands traced over the light hair on Harry’s chest, following it downwards until Harry was arching towards him, hoping for him to caress his cock. But Draco would simply chuckle and move his hands up Harry’s back. 

Eventually, finally, Draco rolled on to his stomach and accio’d a container of his expensive lube from his robes, passing it to Harry. They had done things like this before, experimented, and Harry felt comfortable rubbing his lubed fingers over Draco, and slowly working them inside. He was aroused enough to be gasping and writhing when Harry brushed against his prostate. He looked so beautiful, Harry kissed down his spine as his fingers worked him over.

Draco pulled away, rolling on to his back. “I want you to fuck me,” he said, his grey eyes dark and steady on Harry’s. 

The words and that heated look almost made Harry cum, without even being touched. He wrapped his slick hand around his cock, trying to calm down, breathing through it. They hadn’t done this before. Harry never had with anyone. “Are you sure?” he asked, not wanting Draco to regret anything later.

“What, do you need an engraved invitation or something?” Draco chuckled as he scooped out some lube and stroked it over his own cock. “I want you to be my first.”

The sight of Draco open and ready, stroking himself, and saying those words was almost too much. But Harry took a few deep breaths and moved closer. There was no way he was going to stop now. 

It took some adjustments as they found the best position, both giving nervous laughs at times, until Harry tried slowly pushing in. Watching him closely for pain or discomfort. Draco was breathing fast, almost panting, but his hands on Harry’s ass kept pulling him in. Encouraging him to push in fully.

Harry couldn’t believe how hot and tight he felt, and he panted against Draco’s neck, trying to keep from peaking right away. Draco seemed to understand, adjusting to feeling so full. 

A few moments later, Draco kissed along his jaw. “Try moving now,” his voice a little breathless. 

Starting slow, Harry kept his eyes on Draco, focusing on his face. They picked up the pace, and Harry saw the first flash of pleasure when he hit a good spot. He concentrated, shifting to rub there, rewarded by Draco’s hands squeezing his ass as he gasped. 

Wanting more of those reactions, Harry rotated his hips, varied his strokes. Draco’s hand was stroking his cock quickly, panting and arching into Harry now. “Yes, yes...” he moaned, tensing in a way Harry knew meant he was close. 

Harry was pounding into him now, hitting that spot, knowing he was seconds away himself, but wanting to see Draco cum first. He dropped his head against his neck, his face slick with sweat, tasting Draco’s against his lips. Feeling so connected and possessive of the man in his arms. His teeth dug in to the place he had bit him before, harder this time.

Draco gasped at that, shuddering in pleasure, and Harry moved back to watch his face. Taking in the way he flushed, panting, and arched up against Harry, beautiful and completely abandoned in his pleasure. It sent Harry over the edge, his orgasm long and intense. Even better for waiting so long.

Rolling on to his side, Harry impatiently pushed the damp strands of hair out of his face. “I should cut all this off,” he chuckled weakly, before nuzzling into Draco’s shoulder.

“Don’t you dare,” Draco drawled, his hand digging into the tangled mess and giving Harry a light kiss. He reached for his wand and did a quick cleaning spell.

Harry felt sleepy. “I wish we could just fall asleep like this.”

Draco hummed in agreement, his fingers still playing with his hair. “Wake up naked together. Morning sex.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, “and holding you in my arms all night.”

The moment he said it, he wondered if it was too much. Too far. Draco seemed comfortable with the sexual side of things, but they really hadn’t been that open about the emotional side. 

Draco turned to face Harry, his eyes searching his. “I’d like that,” he finally whispered, sounding almost shy about the admission. 

Harry gathered him close, feeling so much for this man. “Tonight, the dance, everything...does that mean we are boyfriends now?” He had to know. He couldn’t bear to see Draco ignore him at meals and in classes tomorrow. He had to know now. Steel himself.

“I prevented your date from showing up to take her place, danced with you all night in full view of the whole school, kidnapped you to this carefully set-up room, and gave you my virginity,” Draco said dryly, a bit of a smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. “What do you think?”

A wide smile spread over Harry’s face, and he leaned in to kiss Draco hard. “You are right. This was the most romantic night I’ve ever had.”

This led to an enthusiastic bout of kissing, with Draco rolling on top of Harry at some point. He was alternating kisses with some sharp nips at his neck, which were sure to leave marks. 

Harry didn’t mind at all, running his hand through Draco’s silky hair and feeling extremely happy. 

But a thought occurred to him, and he sat up with a gasp. “Romilda!”

Draco had been knocked off balance by Harry’s sudden movement, and he awkwardly shifted to sit up on the sofa, glaring at Harry. “You interrupt making out with me to shout out a girl’s name?”

“What did you do to her? A _Confindus_ charm? Obliviate her memory? _Petrificus Totalus?”_ Harry could picture her dorm mates returning from the dance to find her bound up on the floor, talking gibberish. How long before it was tracked back to Draco, and he was hauled in front of Headmistress McGonagall?

Draco shook his head, chuckling. “Nothing so drastic was needed to stop her. Just put a few drops of Zit Zinger into her night cream. I heard she woke up with a dozen huge pimples and didn’t leave her bed all day, the curtain drawn tight around it. Too embarrassed to even get Madam Pomfrey to treat them.”

“That’s awful, Draco!” Harry said, leaning back on the sofa beside him, giving him an amused glance. “I’m surprised she didn’t send me a message or anything though...”

“She did send a note with a second year girl. I did a mild _Confindus_ charm on her, I’ll admit,” Draco said with a small shrug.

Harry cuddled closer. “Attacking two girls just to go on a date with me. I hope they are all right now.” He was starting to get sleepy, stifling a yawn. 

Draco nodded, reaching for their clothes. They sat up to get dressed, knowing they had to get back to their dorm. McGonagall was pretty lenient with the eighth year students, but they didn’t want to test the limits of that. “The little girl will forget it all within a few hours. I got rid of the tampered skin cream, and the pimples will fade by tomorrow.”

Walking hand in hand, they strolled back to their dorm. It was quiet, with everyone else in bed by now. They stole a few goodnight kisses before changing into their pajamas and slipping into bed.

...

-A/N: One more chapter... Sheesh, this fic is so fluffy! Lol


	9. A Fine Summer Day

Harry picked a wildflower from the grass nearby, and held it up for Draco to see.

“If you were planning to stick that in my hair, think again,” Draco growled, his eyes slitted. 

Bringing the pink bloom downwards, Harry tapped the end of his nose with it. “I was just going to have you smell it. Sharing the glories of nature with you.”

“‘The glories of nature’,” Draco repeated in a sarcastic tone, and then grabbed Harry to roll him over on to his back. He yanked a handful of grass from the ground and rubbed it into Harry’s face. “Here’s some more of that for you.”

Sputtering, Harry forced his hands away, and twisted to grab whatever he could reach. His handful of weeds and old leaves went down Draco’s shirt.

It was a full ten minutes before they rolled away from each other, laughing and breathless, standing up to shake the vegetation out of their clothes and hair. Harry made a face as he tried to scrape the squashed mushroom off his t-shirt, leaving a brown stain behind. Draco simply smirked at him.

“Oh really,” Hermione sighed impatiently, and pointed her wand at Harry. A second later, his clothes looked clean again, the mushroom juice, grass stains and bits of leaves gone. “You two are adults. When are you going to start acting like it?”

Draco had his own wand out, and his clothes didn’t show any signs of their recent tussle either. “Well, seeing as we had to deal with adult things like war and violence when we were kids, I think it’s OK to make up for some of the kid stuff we missed out on.”

Ignoring Hermione’s unimpressed scoff, Harry grinned widely at his boyfriend. “I can’t wait until winter. We should build massive snow forts and have snowball fights.”

Draco nodded back, but then his grin faltered. “But we won’t be here next winter. They don’t get as much snow around London.”. Malfoy Manor and Grimmauld Place were far south from here. 

It was the closest they had come to actually discussing the future, and Harry knew they couldn’t put it off any more. He held out his hand to Draco. “Want to go for a walk by the lake?”

Draco accepted his hand, looking a bit subdued. Harry waved to Hermione and Ron, lying together on a blanket in the shade of their favorite tree, leaving them to continue studying for their NEWTs.

All around them, other students had the same idea. Everywhere there were students studying for their exams, despite the beautiful June weather that tempted them all to do more pleasurable things. 

At least the sight of Draco holding hands with Harry no longer got a second look. It had been a couple hellish weeks of trying to ignore the gossip, looks and whispers, but eventually Draco and Harry were acting too much like any other couple to get much attention. 

The novelty still hadn’t worn off for Harry though, and he felt almost breathless each time he saw Draco. Whenever their eyes met, and he saw his feelings were returned. Getting stronger every day.

“So, what are we going to do at the end of the school year?” Harry finally asked, sitting on a boulder overlooking the calm water. Sunlight danced and sparked on the small ripples of its surface. 

Draco sat beside him, his shoulder and leg in full contact. They usually sat this way now; in class, at meals, when studying. A subtle connection they both loved. He looked upwards at the few clouds in the blue sky. “I’ve been so focused just getting through this year, I haven’t thought about it much. I just want to get good grades on my tests.”

“Would you consider playing Quidditch professionally?” Viktor Krum had come to their last match, bringing along a few scouts. A handful of players were invited out to dinner in Hogsmeade afterwards, including Ginny, Draco and Harry. 

Draco shrugged. “I really only enjoy playing against you. I’m not as into the sport as Ginny or you are.”

Harry took his hand. “I know Slughorn was sending you letters about potions programs.”

“And I know you have considered becoming an Auror,” Draco said, looking into Harry’s eyes. 

They kissed, slowly, savoring the rush of feelings, getting lost in each other. Harry hugged Draco tight, and tucked his face against his neck. “I don’t want to lose you so soon after I finally got you.”

“Me neither,” Draco whispered near Harry’s ear, his voice scratchy with emotion. 

Harry frowned, trying to keep it together. He pulled back. “I want you to pursue your dreams, Draco. You have been through hell the past few years and you deserve to be happy. I think coming back to Hogwarts has shown that the war is behind you and you are ready to take on new challenges. Slughorn certainly sees that.”

Their former potions teacher had been very supportive of Hogwarts rebuilding, both in the structure, its reputation, and helping the traumatized students. He had visited several times to assist with the potions classes, and had finally been impressed with Draco. He no longer raved about Harry’s potion abilities, but was still friendly due to his fame. 

Draco nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “But the program he thinks is best for me is in Vienna.”

“Well, the scout from Liechtenstein was making me a very generous offer to play for them. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me being with you as much as I could.” Harry said, trying to remember everything from that discussion. He had a few fire whiskies that night.

“It’s a seven hour train ride!” Draco said, his eyes wide. 

Harry scoffed. “Last year, Hermione, Ron and I apparated the length of the UK every few days with no problems.” He didn’t mention Ron’s splinching accident, since it was under unusual circumstances. “And that was before I had my license.”

“Why are you even considering this? Is it just to be closer to me?” Draco pulled away, taking a few steps towards the lake. He spun around to face Harry. “You have wanted to be an auror for ages! I want you to pursue your dreams and be happy too.”

Harry stood up, and walked to Draco, taking his hands. “I’m really fucking greedy. I want it all. I want to play Quidditch all day, and sleep in your bed every night. Plus, Austria gets lots of snow. Think of the epic snowball fights we could have,” he added, trying to lighten things up.

Draco still looked skeptical, so Harry continued in a more serious tone. “And when you are done your program, assuming you aren’t bored of me yet, we can move back to the UK together. I can train to be an auror then, if they still want me.”

“You’d do that? Just to be near me?” Draco seemed so dumbfounded by the idea, Harry had to kiss him. 

“It’s not entirely for you, Draco. It will be fun to live on the continent, travel and see new things, with the team and with you. Plus, it will allow things to settle down to normal back here. When I return, it won’t be such a big deal that I’m ‘Harry Potter’.” 

Draco scoffed, giving Harry’s ponytail a yank. “They hardly even recognize you as it is, with your scar and glasses gone. I’m surprised you haven’t changed your name too, if you want to leave the past in the past so badly.”

Harry smirked at the idea. “Harrison Evans, my mother’s maiden name.”

“Hank Black?” Draco shot back with a grin.

“Or you could marry me. Then I’d be Harry Malfoy.”

He had said it without thinking, only as a joke, but Draco’s eyes widened and he blinked slowly several times. He turned away, looking out towards the lake again.

 _Fuck._ Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Things had been so good between them the last few months, he’d almost forgotten that there were some sensitive areas he should be more cautious around. 

He stepped up behind Draco, letting his arms snake loosely around his waist. “Sorry, I shouldn’t joke about things like that. I know we are just finishing school, and its way too early to think about getting married.”

Draco turned in his arms. “You think that’s what bothered me? Scared of the thought of marrying you?”

“Um, it isn’t?” Harry asked, confused but feeling a surge of elation at the words. Did that mean Draco had thought about getting married one day? Thinking of them together that far in the future?

Draco’s cool grey eyes warmed. “No, you stupid fool.” He said the words with obvious affection. “I’m just shocked that you would even joke about taking my name, a name associated with Death Eaters and dark magic.”

“So is the name ‘Black’,” Harry replied with a shrug. “‘Malfoy’ happens to be the last name of the man I love.”

Draco hugged him so tight he could barely breathe, but Harry wasn’t about to complain. He was surrounded by a man who he’d been obsessed with for years, and had been in love with for months. It had been hard to hold back from saying the words, not wanting to scare Draco away with the intensity of his feelings. 

“I lo-love you too, Harry,” Draco pulled back to confess, his face flushing in the most endearing way. He looked embarrassed for stuttering, vulnerable and beautiful, and Harry loved him all the more for it. “I’ve never said that to anyone else.”

“I’m getting all your firsts,” Harry said softly, feeling honored. He tilted his face forward until their foreheads touched. 

Draco kissed him softly. “It’s not the first for you, though.”

Harry couldn’t deny this. He had loved Ginny, and still loved her as a sister. “Yes, that is true, but you will be the last person I ever say it to.”

Even though he was only eighteen, Harry had strong feelings about Draco since the day they had met. He felt interwoven with Harry by now, so much a part of each other, that he could not imagine a future without Draco in it. Maybe it was too much to say it, but he knew deep in his heart it was true.

They sat down on their rock again, talking as the sun went down, holding hands and kissing often. A world of fantastic possibilities before them. 

....

-A/N: OK, there’s my short & fairly sweet version of an Eighth Year Hogwarts story. Hope you enjoyed it & thanks so, so much for reading it! :)

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